A Troublemaker in Amestris
by A Monochrome World
Summary: Dak Mackie is the notorious hellion in her town. When she ventures into her father's study, she is accidentally transported to Amestris. She meets the brothers and the gang, and must find a way home while evading the Homunculi, avoiding altering the storyline, and uncovering her father's shadowy past. Ed/OC, possibly Winry/OC later
1. Not THAT Kind of Moving

Disclaimer: I am totally Hiromu Arakawa and am writing fan fiction even though it would make more sense to just produce another manga. Derp.

World: Follows the 2003 anime

**Chapter 1: Not THAT Kind of Moving...**

Melissa had an uncharacteristic spring in her step as she headed toward the gymnasium. It was the day of the prom, and she was excited for the reactions when everyone attended the event _she_ had orchestrated. She could already picture their awestruck faces. The prom committee had worked long and hard; behind her back, Melissa was labeled with epithets like "slave-driver," "anal," and "severe OCD". The decorations and set-up, immaculate thanks to her finicky nature, required only the finishing touches before the event tonight. She whistled off-beat, confident they would finish in time, and pushed through the gym's double-door entrance.

"Alright guys, I don't want any slacking off—" she began, only to stop mid-sentence. The committee members were all gathered around a... _something_ a few feet in front of her. When it clicked in her head what this _something_ was, her face became fire engine red. "DAK MACKIE, I'M GONNA KICK YOUR ASS!"

* * *

"Condoms," said Vice Principal Woodrow. He sat at his office desk, which was _mahogany _and cluttered. He gave no indication that he had just deadpanned an awkward word, his visage devoid of emotion.

Dak was sitting in front of his desk, uncomfortable in the back-less chair. Dak was short for Dakota. She had long, sinewy black hair; it was as if she had been a castaway on a deserted island and neglected to cut it. Truth be told, ain't nobody got time for hair. (No stupid, she washes her hair. ...But that's about it.) She possessed cobalt blue eyes that were like beacons on her face, contrasting against a fair complexion.

Additionally, her attire was as perfunctory as her hair. She was clad in cuffed jean shorts, a baggy yellow jacket, and masculine dark brown, lace-up ankle boots. None of the articles of clothing really matched, and so one got the impression she had carelessly thrown something on. This was somewhat true.

Currently, the 5"4, slender girl was experimenting with different positions on the chair. She hoped she wouldn't have back pains later.

"If I turn into a hunchback when I'm older, I will sue this school," Dak promised.

"Uh-huh," said the principal disinterestedly. "Dak. Condoms," he repeatedly blandly, the restrained tone like a calm before the storm.

"Aha!" Dak exclaimed triumphantly when she found comfort in a position that was too intricate to describe. She should do yoga!

"CONDOMS! Are you kidding me? CONDOMS?!" the Vice Principal exploded, and Dak wished she had turned on the intercom while he wasn't looking... Oh well, anyone within range probably heard it loud and clear. Too funny.

"Man, someone out there probably thinks you're throwing a hissy fit because you don't wanna wear a condom during intercourse," remarked Dak nonchalantly.

Mr. Woodrow sat back down, a pink dust on his cheeks the only clue to his embarrassment. "You know what I'm talking about."

"I do."

Mr. Woodrow blinked. "You do?" She normally beat around the bush, and the easy surrender was suspicious.

"Yeah," she said. "So please, don't give me the talk. The internet has guided me for a long time."

He shook his head. Of course, he should have known. "There should be a law against your access to the internet. Then maybe you would not have placed a sizable pile of condoms on the gym floor and replaced the banner with one that said "Prevent Teen Pregnancy". Popping all of the balloons, tearing down the streamers and doodling on the table cloth with the art skills of a first grader have nothing to do with it, though."

Dak looked sincerely affronted. She tilted her chin up with defiance. "Hey, I worked hard on my pandas! I even drew a whole family. The father George, his wife Mary, the eldest son Aaron, the middle child..."

"Wait, those were pandas?" he interjected.

"Everyone's a critic." She sniffed.

"I thought they were raccoons, frankly," he said.

"How in the world did you mistake my masterpieces for raccoons?" Dak grumbled.

"Well its leg looked like a tail—Dak! That's not the problem here!"

"Right, Mr. Woodrow. What were you saying?" she chirped.

The older man leaned forward, expression now super serious. "I have dealt with this time and again. I have told you over and over and made you suffer the consequences. Your pranks need to stop. You know, Melissa worked very hard on that prom and now she's had to postpone it. And many, many students were looking forward to it. They splurged so much money to prepare."

A subtle breach could be seen in her carefree veneer, alluding to a guilt-ridden face underneath. Woodrow noticed this slip-up and took advantage of it. He met her eyes with a disappointed stare, and murmured, "Do you not understand how negatively these pranks affect the people around you, Dak?"

Dak's witty dialogue was lost on her, leaving tentative silence in its wake. Her gaze seemed to extend beyond this room, far into the distance. Woodrow waited patiently, familiar with her deep-thinking trances. Despite everything—the jokes and the ignorance and the flippant dismissals—he learned in time that Dak was not unscrupulous.

It emphasized the question: _Why_? Why then, did the habit never cease, and she continued to hurt people? Why was it that she clearly enjoyed it yet simultaneously hated herself for it?

Dak didn't know; all she knew was that she felt happiest when she was creating pandemonium. And if she had a conscience, it was overpowered by the entertainment of troublemaking. She had no intention of changing, so people needed to give up already. It wasn't happening.

"You already know the answer to that question," she spoke at last, referring to the million other times he had posed it. She smirked good-naturedly.

"Then why do you continue to do this?" he asked with bridled exasperation.

She shrugged.

Mr. Woodrow sighed. He pinched the bridge of his nose as if to dispel a headache. "To be honest with you," he spoke solemnly, "some of your schemes blow me away. You have so much imagination and intelligence. It's a damn shame you waste it all on this, and not positive things like oh, I don't know, your grades."

The routine game was boring now. His humdrum lectures, which were the same thing fed by every adult, were starting to give her a headache as well. "Just give me the nine days suspension and get it over with," she said.

But he ignored her, making her entertain the prospect of simply walking out. "Listen, you're a great kid," he prattled on. "You're a very interesting, unique kid. I like you, and I would like to help you. But this school can't afford any more of your antics."

Dak had been musing to herself that he could be so absorbed in his blathering he wouldn't even notice her slip out, when the last sentence caught her attention. "Wait, what?"

The principal gave her a look that was genuinely contrite, but didn't waver. His stare darkened as he told her, "Dakota Mackie, you are expelled. Don't come to school tomorrow. Or ever again." He folded his hands together, fingers intertwined.

An uncomprehending look much like the one she donned in math class settled on Dak's face. "Wow," she said after a moment, making him raise an inquisitive eyebrow. She grinned wide. "Great practical joke. I must be rubbing off on you."

Mr. Woodrow facepalmed. He was sure that somewhere, deep down, he was going to miss her. But right now, he wasn't feeling it. "I am not joking. Please leave."

"No way," she shot back, chuckling. "You love me." She folded her arms across her chest.

Mr. Woodrow mentally sighed. He knew if he wanted her to leave, he'd have to be harsh. "Get out of my office," he demanded again, an unspoken warning in his tone of voice. There was no other way but to be callous, because if he wasn't then the reality may never fully sink in. It pained him to do so, but this was the best way. She was a strong girl. She could deal with it.

Dak's eyes scanned his countenance for any sign of deceit. When the search turned up fruitless, the smarmy smirk slipped away. "You're serious," she stated flatly. He nodded. She fixed him with a glare and clenched her teeth. "Where will I go?" she asked, becoming shrill. There were no other public schools in this area.

"Away from this school. Didn't I make that clear?" He shot up from his chair and slammed his hands on his desk for emphasis, making Dak flinch. "Get out!" he yelled.

Dak goggled at him with enlarged eyes, taken aback by his out-of-character behavior. "Who lit the fuse on your tamp—"

"I swear I will drag you out," he threatened.

Her stare continued to linger for a few seconds before she slowly disentangled and extricated herself from the hunchback-producing chair. "Sorry," she said softly. "You know I'm slow. Bye, I guess." Her mouth upturned in a quavering, forced smile.

"Good-bye, Miss Mackie." He knew she would not miss the significance of using her surname. To his surprise, her sweet smile only widened. "I hope you learn from this and do your best out in the world."

"Suuure. Thanks for putting up with me." Then she turned, grabbed her backpack, and peacefully exited out the door. When the door issued a click, it felt like the announcement of the end of an odyssey.

He wondered if she would be the same after this.

All of a sudden, the door opened a crack and Dak poked her head through.

"How many times do I have to tell you to get out and stay out?!" Mr. Woodrow barked.

She showcased big, innocuous, pleading eyes for him. "Can I have a hug?"

No—she was not remotely changed from this.

"You most certainly can not!"

"Aww, c'mon. Everybody loves hugs."

"I'll hug you if you leave."

"I'm not falling for that."

"Get away from me. Dak, I said no. Dak, get off. DAK!"

"Aww, you're using my first name again! I knew you still loved me. Free hugs!"

"AAARGGHH!"

* * *

Dak pedaled at a moderate speed as her bike zipped past multiple average-sized houses. The wind she fermented herself spiraled through her hair, tangling the flaxen tresses further. Her breaths were labored and her thighs and calves ached, but she seldom slowed.

After school, she opted riding her bike home instead of the bus. She needed to blow off steam. Pedaling abreast of her was her friend Grayson. He had shaggy, chestnut brown hair and irises a dark brown that bordered on black. He was lanky and pale. They had been friends since eighth grade, when Dak pulled a practical joke he particularly admired. To this day, he was still more of an admirer than a friend, but her options were scant.

Dak had just finished divulging her expulsion to him.

"Well shit, Dak," he panted out, "I knew you would be expelled eventually, but not this soon." He shot her a sympathetic look.

"Yeah, I thought I needed a few more suspensions. I must've pushed it with the whole prom Grinch thing," Dak replied.

"You—okay?" he breathed.

"Not really. I mean, I liked the school. I'll miss the staff and some of the kids." Her lungs were also grappling for air. They would have to take a break soon.

"Even Melissa?" he joked.

She laughed. "She was one of my favorite, fiery victims. Besides, school was the one place I had lesser chance of dealing with the police when I caused problems," she added.

"I knew there was some other reason," he bantered. "Okay, pit stop."

Honestly, Dak didn't want to make a pit stop. She preferred to keep going, because her stirred-up feelings were expelled with every full rotation of the pedals, and exhaled in every strained breath.

But she complied, veering closer to the edge of the road and braking. Grayson followed suit, parking behind her. They both lingered, procuring air in ravenous gulps.

"You should work out more," Dak wheezed teasingly.

"You're one to talk," he countered.

They remained like that for about another minute, subsequently resuming with renewed vigor. Dak was glad to feel her hair swirling in a mini vortex again, to pump her legs aggressively, to feel her heart hammer, almost closing her eyes in rapture. But she'd probably crash that way.

"Sorry to be a sap, but it's gonna suck without you."

Dak smiled and fought down a blush. "We still live close. I'll visit."

"Yeah, but where are you gonna go to school?" His voice was crestfallen and doubtful.

"I guess I'll go cyber," Dak answered, starting to clam up. She hoped he wasn't going to say what she speculated he would.

But he did. "What if you'll have to move instead?"

"Won't happen," she said with finality, mostly trying to convince herself.

"You can't know for sure," he pointed out.

Dak was quiet. _Damn it, Gray. Do you always have to be so straightforward?_

"Oh crap, Dak," Grayson said suddenly, and she sensed that he was coming to a halt. Confused, she matched his receding pace. "Your dad is home. Early."

Her frantically beating heart leapt to her throat. Her father was frequently away on business trips, and wasn't supposed to be back until Wednesday. The fact that he was home prematurely could only mean one thing: He was informed about her expulsion.

His car was parked in their driveway. It was still running, too. Her father climbed out, shut the door, seemed to detect her presence, turned, and called out, "Dakota Belle Mackie, get in here now!"

He definitely knew.

Grayson wished her luck and proceeded to his house, which was nine blocks away.

"See you later," she had responded and was requited with the farewell. She pedaled into the driveway, halted and properly stored her bike in the garage. She went into the house, and was immediately greeted by her father. He was waiting at the doorway, arms crossed.

"Hi, Dad," she said with a smile.

"Don't 'Hi, Dad' me," he said, fixing a stern glare on her. "Come with me to the living room. You and I are having a talk." With that, he briskly led the way. Dak followed, going to the designated room for her earful. He sat on the couch and she plopped down next to him.

"Do you know what this is about?" he started.

"Yeah." She dropped her backpack at her feet. "You missed me so much, you came here early." _If only that were true_, she thought somberly.

"You know I miss you when I have to leave town. But this about your expulsion. Dakota—_why_?"

"Why was I expelled?" She swallowed.

He grimaced. "No, I've heard enough of that story, thank you. I want to know why you would crash a prom and dump condoms everywhere. Condoms!" He was overt about his bewilderment, looking incredulously at her.

"I was saving the world." _Shut up, shut up. Be serious_. "Allowing the, in kinder terms, jocks and preps to reproduce would put the world in grave danger." _That's not serious. Okay, it kind of is. But still, shut up._

"That's not nice. I didn't raise you to be like this, Dakota. What you did was wrong and where the hell did you get the condoms?" he asked angrily.

_Pulled them out of my ass_. "Store. A few of them, actually. Sold them out," Dak said, her eyes downcast.

"I do not want you buying condoms! Otherwise, I'll simply do all the grocery shopping for you and I won't leave any money behind for you when I'm on trips. You won't have anything to spend on frivolities," he declared, and lightly grabbed her chin to drag her gaze back to his. "Do you understand me?" She nodded. "Great. Now what did you do wrong?" He released her chin.

Dak sighed. "One, I bought condoms. Two, I wrecked a prom and caused it to be postponed, crushing people's hopes and dreams. The school worked arduously on setting it up and others spent a lot of money on fancy dresses and tuxedoes and stuff, and I made it all go to waste." She felt like Mr. Woodrow was speaking through her.

"Were you aware of this before you did it?" he queried.

"Yeah."

"And you still did it because?"

"I don't know. It was fun." Dak guiltily averted her gaze sideways.

"Fun to crush hopes and dreams, as you put it," he scolded. "I'm sorry I'm not home all the time, Dakota—"

"I like to be called Dak," she said meekly.

"Dak," he echoed compliantly, "but this behavior has to stop. Now you're banned from the only school in town. What am I going to do?"

"They say cyber school is pretty good," she suggested beseechingly.

"No," he said, evoking Dak's heart that was impressively mobile today to drop her to stomach. His expression suddenly softened, and he consolingly palmed her shoulders. "I'm not condoning your expulsion, but this is admittedly convenient. I've been making arrangements to move for some time now."

"Wha..." A cocktail of emotions were passing over her: betrayal and hurt, fear, guilt that she would be leaving Grayson, and smoldering anger, to name a few.

"I'm sorry I never told you, but it wasn't a concrete decision until recently."

"I don't want to," she blurted. "Let's just do cyber school. Please?" She felt like she was going to panic.

"I'm sorry, baby, but I promise you'll love the place," he said, feverishly coaxing and apologetic. "We'll start new. Stop your pranking. And I'll be home much, much more. My work is almost done. We'll have far more quality time."

"I like it here," Dak said. "I'm happy here."

"You'll be happier there. Trust me." Now he sounded cryptic, like there was more to it. As if he was withholding a vital piece of information, and wanted to save it for later.

"No," Dak repeated, feeling her bottom lip tremble.

"Start packing all of your clothes and belongings. I have to go back on business, but I should be here by Friday," he murmured and kissed the top of her head.

"I missed you, Dad," she said honestly.

"I missed you, too. I'm very sorry." And he embraced her. She returned the hug, even though for once, it didn't comfort and elate her like it normally did when he came home.

His arms eventually fell away. "Looks like you left the TV on this morning."

She looked up to check. It was on, and broadcasting Fullmetal Alchemist. She smiled faintly, mood lifted the slightest inch when Edward Elric accidentally called himself short and promptly threw a fit inside the vent.

"Sorry," she said automatically.

"Your favorite show, isn't it?" he asked thoughtfully.

"Yeah."

"Fullmetal Alchemist," he stated.

"Yeah," she repeated flatly.

"Hmm." That cryptic air from before returned, a strange twinkle awakening in his eye. It confused Dak, but she was in too sour of a mood to care. He seemed to snap out of it, and his eyes reverted to her. "Well, you're grounded from electronics until I get back."

She nodded. Like she was going to uphold that wish whilst being unsupervised for days. That was one of the advantages of his absences: freedom.

"I need to go. Be good."

"Bye, Dad." She followed him out to the front door. He took his coat off of the coat hanger beside it, shrugging it on.

"Are you short on anything?" he asked.

"Just milk and bread," she answered. He slipped her a fifty, plus two twenty dollar bills. She didn't complain. He gave her a kiss on the cheek, reminded her that he'd miss her, and left. She waited until she heard his car's engine fade into the distance, then went upstairs.

Her father had always forbade her from going into his study. It had been that way for as long as she could remember. She never went in, because despite her misbehaviors, she did obey her father when she could help it.

But now she was upset and she desired revenge. She thought that maybe, the study would be a suitable location for a prank. Or maybe, it held valuable information that would inspire one.

Coming to a stop in front of the door, she reached for the knob. Her hand grasped it, but she hesitated. She felt a strange sense of foreboding, and truth be told her curiosity had dissipated long ago. She decided to ignore the negative intuition and turned the knob anyway.

She opened the door wide. It was dark, and her hand scrabbled around the wall until it encountered a light switch. She toggled it. A ceiling lamp lit up the room, exposing her father's private sanctuary to her for the first time.

There was a desk, like every study would have. It was cluttered, papers littering it so densely it was like a second varnish for the desk. Several bookshelves lined the room. They touched the ceiling, and were spacious and wide, but each of them was chock-full of books.

Dak took a step inside to investigate further. By doing so, she trampled over the numerous papers that were strewn haphazardly across the floor, as well as books. She realized belatedly that she would be leaving footprints behind, as she had forgotten to remove her boots. Too late now, she supposed.

She strode over to the desk. She picked up some papers, confounded when she tried to read them. Rather than words and letters, symbols, numbers and equations were scrawled across the papers. They also bore drawings, which confused her further.

They were sketches of circles, remarkably similar to the transmutation circles as seen on Fullmetal Alchemist. She frowned, recalling his strangeness earlier when he brought up the wonderful anime.

It just didn't make sense. Why were there alchemical circles embellishing her father's research documents?

"What in the actual fuck?" Dak muttered. If he was an avid fan, she could understand why he kept it secret. He must have been aware that his unhealthy obsession transcended otaku level. But still, she couldn't believe that this was his big secret. It was stupid.

She investigated further, hoping to debunk her theory, and flipped through one of the books. To her surprise, this one expounded on witchcraft. It was full of spells, incantations, and glyphs resembling that of transmutation circles but not quite the same thing.

The sense of foreboding she had felt not too long ago was creeping up on her again, eclipsed and urgent. She had the sudden urge to run out, but resisted. It was probably just paranoia; after all she had never explored this forbidden territory before. The young girl chalked it up as a manifestation of guilt, and moved on to another book.

It was titled "The History of Chemistry". Her father was a major chemist, so it made much more sense. Relieved that she found something that actually belonged, she returned to the desk.

She browsed through the drawers from top to bottom. In the first, there was a sheaf of papers. She quickly closed it, having glimpsed alchemical jargon and gibberish. She was attempting to pretend she had never seen the alchemy papers.

In the second, a voluminous book about alchemy. She also shut that drawer in the blink of an eye. She braved pulling the third one out. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that it was only a necklace.

"Thank God," she whispered and took it out. She examined it more closely, imbuing a blood red stone cut in the shape of a rain drop and encompassed in a framework of sterling silver curlicues. Admiring its beauty, she wondered if the necklace was tied in with her mother somehow.

She felt a sharp pang in her heart. She immediately banished all thoughts of her mother to the back of her mind, where it was probably getting cramped. Dak contemplated the necklace for a few moments before putting it on.

She realized that the necklace had delayed and distracted her, and hastily resumed her perusal of the room. She plucked a few sheets of paper off of the floor. The action bared a fraction of said floor, fortuitously unearthing a print of chalk.

It was a peek of a chalk, to be exact, and obviously only a small piece of the puzzle. Her curiosity was piqued. Dak shuffled the plethora of papers into slipshod piles, exposing the art.

It was revealed to be a circle endowed with geometrical shapes and a network of complex, intersecting lines. It was symmetrical, and looked exactly like the transmutation circles seen on Fullmetal Alchemist.

Dak swallowed audibly. Was her father really this much of a fanatic? If he was, she didn't know whether she should respect or be worried for him.

Unexpectedly, that premonition from before returned with a vengeance. It was stronger, bells of apprehension ringing raucously in her head. It was conflicting with the urge to reach out and touch the circle. Dak hissed in annoyance, not understanding why this paranoia was so potent.

Just to prove to herself that it was ridiculous, Dak clapped her hands palms down on the sketch. She smiled, feeling smug when nothing happened.

"There," she said and started to peel her hands away...

...when incandescent light exploded from the ground. It enveloped her, eliciting a high-pitched shriek she never knew she was capable of. Why couldn't her singing voice be that high?

The light morphed into a swirling vortex. It was a spooky, light purple flecked with blood red. Dak scrambled backward, but almost as soon as she did that, sable, wiggly arms emerged from the center of the circle. They shot forward, effectively weaving around her. She thrashed around, but it was futile and they dragged her to the center of the circle.

And she disappeared, not noticing the necklace glow at the last second.


	2. The Homunculi's Christmas Gift

**Chapter 2: The Homunculi's Christmas Gift (Or it might as well have been)**

Against her protests, Dak was pulled inside the Gate. She was immediately grappled by Gate Babies, but something made them retreat. Then infinite film rolls webbed over the space surrounding her. Her head was promptly crammed with knowledge of the universe, history and science flashing at hyper-speed behind her eyes.

Her struggling was more desperate than ever. "I don't—want it," she sobbed. "I didn't mean to—stop!"

_You're going to need it_, reasoned a spiritless, disembodied voice. The Gate?

"Did you just call me stupid?" Dak gritted out, missing the point completely.

She didn't get any response as the clarity finally came, sparing her from an imploding brain. Dak slumped in relief, the information coalescing into a clear picture. She could understand everything and for a fleeting few seconds was omniscient, before enclosing darkness marked an end to it.

* * *

Dak awoke to a feel of something slimy laving over her face. When she opened her eyes, it turned out to be the tongue of a small lab trailing saliva in its wake. Grimacing, she languidly shooed the dog off.

She maneuvered her tired body into a sitting position. With a deft one-eighty sweep over her surroundings, Dak immediately knew she was in unfamiliar territory. She didn't recognize anything; not the gaudy Victorian era house several yards in front of her, not the rest of the street, not the well-kept lawn she sat in, nothing. The only thing she knew for certain was that..

She couldn't resist saying it. She looked over to the puppy that was now fidgeting beside her and drawled, "Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore." She was characteristically joking, but her voice shook. Distraught and shaken up as she was, she reined in her emotions in order to get things done.

Rising to her feet, she brushed off pieces of grass and was careful not to miss the ones on her ass. Hey, that rhymed! Maybe it could be a poem. Wait, she couldn't write poetry. She could barely write the English language, and plus that would be kind of an awkward poem.

Ahem...

"So what now?" she muttered to herself. She wracked her brain and figured she would start off by learning exactly where she was in Amestris. Having a basic idea of her location could spawn other ideas. Maybe. "Don't follow me, Toto," she commanded, but when she looked over her shoulder, the dog was chasing its tail on the opposite side of the yard. "Fine, I see how it is."

"Hey you!" a high-pitched voice suddenly called out. Dak was nearly scared out of her skin. She spun around to face a woman glowering at her from the front door. "I don't know what you're doing, but get those filthy shoes off my lawn!"

"That wasn't very nice!" Dak automatically called back, then proceeded to do a random jig and ran off.

* * *

After her heartless massacre of the woman's precious lawn, Dak wandered out into the street(several blocks away to keep a safe distance) and asked the first person she saw for directions.

"Sorry to bother you, but could you tell me this city's name?" Politeness always reduced suspicion.

"Are you lost, dear?" asked the middle-aged woman.

"Uh, I just moved here and the name slipped my mind." Dak nervously rubbed at her lower right leg with her left boot.

The woman frowned, doubt settling on her face. "'Central' slipped your mind?" she asked, giving Dak a strange look.

Dak inwardly cringed at the setback, but disguised herself as sheepish. "I lived in West City before and well, I guess I'm an airhead. Could you tell me where Central HQ is? I use it as a center point to remember everything else around it."

"How about the police station so your parents can find you?" she quipped.

Dak thought fast. "Okay then, I'll use the Headquarters as my center point to get there. It's about as good as the police anyway, right?"

"I see the gossip about the military hasn't affected your views," she grunted. "Alright, just don't get into any trouble. We're actually pretty close. Walk straight out of the neighborhood and keep following the road until you meet a fork. Choose the left." She gesticulated to aid Dak's apparently poor memory.

Dak breathed a relieved sigh. "'Kaythanksbye. Your shoes are untied, by the way." She snickered when the woman peered down at her her sandals. Before she could be admonished, she bolted away. Just to be safe, she covered approximately the rest of the street.

She ruminated as she ran, strategically distracting herself from the imploring ache in her legs. That, and she needed to plan more.

_If Edward and Alphonse are here_, she thought, _could I ask for their assistance_? No... At least not directly. She couldn't just waltz in there and ask them to transport her back home. Obviously. So what then?

The sound of a primitive car engine broke her from her reverie. Dak instantly moved aside and leaned against a lamppost. She wasn't alarmed by the car, she knew it was slow and outmoded. She sat down with her back against the lamppost as she waited for her breathing to slow.

Now that she wasn't caught up in her thoughts, her aching body made itself very known. Her lungs guzzled air like a seasoned alcoholic, and her legs felt like rubber. Dak was enervated, both physically and mentally.

She hung her head, grumbling that she better have burned a myriad of calories.

* * *

Lust wallowed in doubt as she treaded behind Gluttony through Central City. She couldn't believe that a Philosopher's Stone would randomly appear, reliable as Gluttony's sense of smell was. It didn't make sense. How could it have been so covertly created, so clandestine as to dodge the Homunculi's vigilant eye? The thought of missing something that significant was a nasty blow to her ego.

She growled low to herself and pulled her cloak tighter around her. "Please put your tongue back in, Gluttony. People could see."

Gluttony's tongue was not so conspicuously protruding from his mouth. He sucked it back in, pouting slightly. He was also laden in a cloak to prevent anyone from remembering their faces.

Gluttony's nose started twitching more vehemently. "We're almost there, Lust!" he announced. Lust didn't reply as they turned a corner, arriving at a tranquil neighborhood. Its road though not totally untouched, wasn't so active either. The houses lining said road were spaced out and middle-class. All in all, it was an ordinary and innocuous area.

"This doesn't look like a place for a Stone operation," Lust commented.

The observation fell on deaf ears. "I smell it on that girl. She must have it," he insisted, pointing at his prime focus.

Lust followed his finger to have her eyes land on a young girl who was sitting up against the only street lamp in sight. She had black, severely windswept hair, and her back was turned on them.

Lust found her about as suspicious as the neighborhood.

"I suppose we'll just render her unconscious and search her," Lust concluded. "If we find... a Philosopher's Stone, then we take it, and her to You-Know-Who for questioning. No eating," she informed Gluttony, who sulked.

"Now, Lust?" he asked.

"Now. Quietly." She nodded to him and with practiced stealth, they both meandered almost soundlessly. They reached the girl, who only had a second to look up before Gluttony swept her into a choke hold. She shrieked as Gluttony wove his massive left arm around her small frame and was silenced by his other arm constricting her throat.

The girl uttered a small gasp, then chomped down on the strangling arm with all her might. Her teeth drew blood, causing Gluttony to loosen his arms.

"Ouch! Lust, I think she's trying to eat me," Gluttony complained.

"I think you'll be okay," Lust said. All of a sudden, Dak had twisted her right arm free and dug the razor-sharp woman nail of her thumb into Gluttony's eye. Gluttony immediately released her, whining about the pain.

Dak crashed to the ground, and to her annoyance tore away _again_ before the two of them realized what had happened. She did the one stupid thing that you're never supposed to do: she glanced over her shoulders at her pursuers to confirm that they were, in fact, the Homunculi Lust and Gluttony.

"Oh. My,"—she ducked her head a split second before sable claws flew over her head—"God, what is with today?!"

Dak knew they were gaining on her, and from her panicked thoughts concocted a few shabby strategies. She took the left turn at the fork of the road, getting closer to the military. As she crossed into a more populated area, she drew attention to herself.

"Fire!" she started screeching nonstop as she zig-zagged through increasing crowds, successfully turning numerous heads.

Maybe there's military patrollers around here somewhere, and the citizens will lead them to me, she hoped.

Lust and Gluttony faltered slightly, the temptress uncertain whether to venture out in the open. In a few seconds, she deemed losing a possible Philosopher's Stone more important and resumed the chase.

Dak was breathing harder, but she soldiered on. Her body's screaming was ignored like usual, only the adrenaline fueling her. She happened upon an outdoor restaurant, and attempted to weave among the smattering of tables at first.

But this proved to hinder her, and so she leapt onto a table, trampling on a couple's dinner. She landed unsteadily, and when she heard the whistle of Lust's digits she let herself drop. She winced at the fresh scrape on her knees, and crawled a little pathetically under the next table with something in mind.

"What are you doing!" one of the women occupying the table cried shrilly, barely heard above the uproar from the rest of the customers.

"Troublemaking," Dak mumbled to herself. "Sorry about this!" she shouted and pivoted her body so that she tipped the entire table backwards. Screams and the sound of smashing porcelain followed, and a split second later the swish of efficient claws.

It was like in slow motion. The timing had been perfect, Lust's fingers impaling the table at that exact moment. The collision stalled her claws long enough for Dak to leap her feet and establish more distance between them.

"Catch me if you can, Hooker Boots and Fatass!" she laughed over the chaos she was brewing. Dak was fully aware of her foolishness, but she had been wanting to call them that for years.

"What did she just call me?" Furious, Lust streaked her claws at Dak again. Dak was far enough away to react punctually at the warning sound of her appendages slashing through the air. She continued to evade narrowly, though sometimes she would be grazed and bestowed with bloody cuts. That didn't slow her down enough, however, and Lust was getting more and more frustrated.

"Lust, I'm tired," Gluttony said.

"Then hurry up and catch your Stone," she coaxed. Gluttony instantly regained speed, reminded of his motivation. "Gluttony, let's go up." Lust hooked her claws into the roof of a store. She retracted them, lifting herself with swift momentum onto the roof. Gluttony soon followed, heaving himself up with a huge leap. They started racing over the tops of buildings, now pursuing from up and alongside. Dak didn't seem to notice at first, concentrating on reaching Headquarters. Then she heard Gluttony's bounces above her, and looked up in alarm. She immediately backpedaled, but it was too late.

Lust chose the perfect moment to jettison herself off of a roof and land directly in front of Dak. She turned, but Gluttony dropped down and blocked her stubbornly attempted sidestepping them one last time, only for Lust to pierce her shoulder. Lust thrust her backward, poising her fingertips over Dak's jugular. Dak froze, panting with exhaustion, fear, and a lot of pain.

"Make one wrong move or sound and I will slice you," Lust simpered, and Dak smothered every snarky comment floating in her head.

"What do you want?" she asked timidly.

Lust noticed the submission and sneered, "Not so cocky now, are you?" Her taunts were spoken in her usual sickly sweet voice. "Are you?"

Dak couldn't stand the disparaging and shot back, "I'm not the one with the cock problems, Hooker Boots." It came out before she could stop it. Dak mentally strangled herself. She mused how right everyone had been, that she wouldn't shut her mouth even in the face of death.

Lust stared uncomprehendingly, painfully prolonging the suspense. Dak waited in dead silence, besides her still slightly erratic breathing. She was pretty sure she'd be killed. To her surprise, Lust's lowest claw extended—to strike the fresh wound in her shoulder she had created moments before. Blood spurted out, adding to the original flow, and Dak screamed in pain.

"Keep going. I can do this all day," Lust deadpanned.

Dak's eyes brimmed with tears and she turned her head away from Lust as far as allowed. Taking in her surroundings, she noticed for the first time the people. They were either fearfully looking on from safe distances, through the windows of the buildings, or if memory served her right a good number of the normal bustle had vacated the premises. Her heart sank, losing more hope by the minute that the military would come. She released a sob, but steadfastly choked back any more.

"Finally. Gluttony," the salacious woman sign-songed his name. He stepped forward. "Search her. Before she opens her mouth again," Lust ordered.

_Yeah_, _I have to agree with her_. _Before I open my mouth again_, Dak brooded.

Gluttony was more than happy to inhale the scent, but Dak flinched away with contempt when he started sniffing her.

Lust's other hand squeezed her injured shoulder, holding her in place there instead of her forearm like before. "Stay still. That's the last time I'm saying it."

Dak complied as Gluttony resumed, only taking a second to locate the sterling silver chain hanging around her neck. Dak swallowed, wondering if she was hand-picked for a meal. Gluttony's hand dove an inch under her jacket's collar. It resurfaced with the necklace she had snatched from her father's drawer.

A triumphant grin crossed his face. "It's this!" he declared jubilantly, showing the necklace to Lust.

"It can't be..." Lust murmured in awe, examining the crimson jewel. In the form a necklace? Were they selling this at Jared's now?

Dak's eyes skittered anxiously between the two, totally clueless.

"Where did you get this?" Lust demanded, roughly turning Dak's head to get a good look at it.

Dak gasped in pain, staring in confusion at her piece of jewelry. "A jewelry store?" Lying was instinctual for her, plus she was getting the strong impression that its source shouldn't be divulged.

Lust was dissatisfied with the answer and practically tore a fistful of Dak's hair out. "I guess we'll just have to persuade you. You're getting on a train with us."

Dak squeezed her eyes shut, hands hovering over her abused head. "I don't understand"—a stifled sob—"what you want," she said honestly.

"You will," Lust assured her. She wordlessly urged Dak forward, but before even a couple steps were taken, a voice boomed authoritatively, "Halt!"

All three turned to face an approaching gaggle of stoic-faced military officers. There seemed to be ten of them at best—they probably weren't aware that was a cinch for the Homunculi—but Dak brightened all the same.

"Let go of the girl and come with us," the one in the front demanded.

Dak's eyes nervously darted to Lust's countenance; she was frowning not like the soliders were a problem but a nuisance. Dak was well aware that the soldiers weren't a threat, but she assumed the Homunculi preferred to be unknown by the public.

"Did you hear me?" the same soldier barked and someone fired the first and only warning shot. Dak jumped slightly, and there was a chorus of frightened gasps from onlookers.

"Lust?" Gluttony asked, looking over at her for instruction.

Lust didn't answer, the whoosh of her elongating fingers speaking for her. They were right at Dak's neck, bound to sever the jugular that had been hanging under this threat for a while now.

_Snap-click_.

Dak opened the eyes she had squeezed shut to see Lust clutching the necklace, its string cut, in her hand. The soldiers were already advancing, prepared to fire when Lust grasped Dak's arm. Jerking her close, Lust's claws scoped out the nearest roof and pulled them upward. They tore through the air, Dak screaming and dangling like a rag doll, until Lust stuck a rough landing. She collided with the edge of the roof first, hindered by the extra baggage. She cursed as she tried to right herself, and Dak was accidentally let go of and thrown during the impact. Dak crashed onto the sloping side of the roof, and scrambled for purchase, hands scratching everywhere.

But it was to no avail. She tumbled off the edge, and the cemented ground of an alley way betwixt the two buildings rushed to meet her. But before she could go splat, her descent ended a foot above the ground.

_Hey, I'm flying_, she thought dazedly. She looked up to her savior (oh, not flying... okay)and locked her blue eyes with unmistakable smoldering, honey gold ones.

Edward Elric was looking down at her, and Dak was surprised by how intense his eyes truly were. He was holding her bridal style and briefly glanced at her copiously bleeding shoulder before setting her down. Dak found her footing, lightly grabbing his wrist when she wobbled.

She assumed an inscrutable expression and fumbled for what to say. "I thought I was flying," were her first words to the Fullmetal Alchemist.

Edward stared at her like she was the weirdest person he ever met—she could've been but then, he knew a lot of weird people—before turning urgent. "Sorry to disappoint, but you'll have to run instead. The military will take care of this."

Fun fact: Dak usually managed to hide her social ineptitude with blitheness and humor. Which was why she totally just nailed it with Edward Elric! Except not really.

"I can't," she informed him as he was kneeling down and ready to clap his hands.

His eyes flicked over to her. "Seriously, I won't let them get near you so—"

He was cut off as she explained truthfully, "If I run any more I'm going to collapse."

She remembered passing out before when she went for a so-called jog down a relatively disused bike trail, and overexerted herself to the point of fainting. She was familiarized with the signs, like the dizziness that made it difficult to stand and her moderate confusion. If only she could fly, because running wasn't an option anymore.

Edward's palms were impatiently floating over his invisible transmutation circle. "Al, get her out of here. I doubt the soldiers can protect her."

"Alright," a tinny voice responded from behind her. Dak spun around, surprised to come face-to-face with the suit of armor that was Alphonse Elric. She hadn't realized he had been standing there, but she was guessing her lightheadedness was causing her to be oblivious to her surroundings. "If you don't mind, that is."

"I don't," Dak assured him with an instinctive smile, heart melted by Alphonse's typical sweetness. They're even cooler in person, she thought, some of that overdue fangirl-gasm surfacing.

Ed hastily built a pillar from the block of ground beneath him. It provided a boost and he leapt onto the roof with ease, going in the direction Lust and Gluttony must have. He disappeared from their sight, apparently having no time to spare Alphonse a goodbye. Or her, but they didn't really know each other, so...

She stared where he had last been within her field of vision, and it occurred to her that she never even realized Lust and Gluttony had fled. Yeah, she was most likely going to faint.

"On the bright side, we're close to Central Hospital," Alphonse said, derailing her train of thought. She nodded, having figured it was established close to the Headquarters, then remembered that's where she was going and held her arms out. Alphonse scooped her into his massive metal arms, cradling her like Edward had. He was mindful of her shoulder, limiting himself to speed-walking to their destination.

"Thanks," she finally remembered to say. Oh, that was what had been on the tip of her tongue when speaking to Edward. Not "I thought I was flying duhhh," but "Thanks for saving my life." Oops.

"You do look really worn-out," Alphonse commented in concern.

Dak shrugged gingerly, minding her shoulder.

"Don't think we're done here!" Lust's voice suddenly reached her ears, and fear took hold of her heart like an icy hand. Her head whipped in the direction of the voice, making out Lust and Gluttony on the flat surface of a trapezoidal roof. Lust was glaring viciously at her, so much that Dak could practically feel it branding her.

"We'll be back for you," the Homunculus promised.

Dak unconsciously tightened the loop of her arms around Alphonse's neck, when Edward swooped in, joining them on the roof.

"What do you want with some defenseless girl? You can't find any better hobbies?" he spat, and lunged at Lust with his transmuted automail blade.

Alphonse picked up the pace considerably to get her away, apologizing whenever she winced or gave a plaintive cry. Come to think of it, Edward had been dead-on. What in the world did the Homunculi want with her? It wasn't like she had the Philosopher's Stone...

_Loading_...

Aww, shit, she just practically handed the Philosopher's Stone over to Lust.

"Aaaand fainting," Dak announced a second before her body went limp and she blacked out.


	3. Condoms Won't Work This Time

**Chapter 3: Condoms Won't Work This Time**

Dak came to to find herself bundled in the extraneous sheets of a hospital bed. Her mind was hazy, allowing her for the briefest moment to mistake the linen for black, flimsy arms.

Black, flimsy arms, like noodles, but it wasn't funny (she hardly ever found something unfunny, so that's saying something), because they were dangerous and when banding together, they were incredibly strong. Strong enough to constrict you like an anaconda. The memory of all this evoked absolute terror, and she jolted halfway into a sitting position. However, a hand on her good shoulder balked her midway. It urged her to lay down, gently, and she complied.

"Relax," a voice told her smoothly, sending a tide of warmth over her form. "You're safe now," it assured her.

The voice sounded familiar. _Edward Elric_. She looked up and cobalt blues collided with strong-willed golden eyes. How could eyes be so expressive?

"Uh... what?" Edward asked, sounding uncomfortable. She had been ogling him for quite a while now. It was very freaky. _I swear if she makes a short comment_...

This comment was almost as bad.

Dak said simply, "You have pretty eyes."

Edward had no words, as his pretty eyes boggled at her and his classic blush came. Alphonse stifled a giggle, having been a quiet observer from the opposite side of the bed.

Then lucidity returned oh so timely to Dak, and she fumbled to rectify her social blunder. "Too bad you're so short," she added.

And now Edward had words. Plenty of them. "WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SHORT HE COULD VALIDATE STRING THEORY BECAUSE HE'S SMALL ENOUGH TO SEE IT?!"

Dak only grinned. Alphonse gave a lighthearted laugh. Edward went on about treacherous brothers and crazy women. Alphonse decided it was time to step in before Dak could hear any more.

"Anyway, Brother's right. It'll hurt your shoulder worse if you suddenly sit up like that," Alphonse admonished kindly.

"Too late now, I s'pose," Dak said, feeling weird when she didn't throw in a shrug. This thing hurt like a bitch. Did they have morphine or whatever? God, she hoped so. Because. it. hurt. and she didn't want to chance crying in front of her idols. She'd done enough crying and other pathetic things today, thank you, and she was sick of the helplessness.

"Heh... What's your name?" Alphonse jerked her out of her harping.

"I can think of a few," Edward remarked. He was mostly calmed down, though. Dak was loving every second of teasing him, as she had a knack for that sort of thing and his reactions rivaled that of Melissa's.

_Melissa_. The mention of her arch nemesis summoned other memories of home. Grayson, apparently double-life Dad, a few distant friends, and Mr. Woodrow, oh, she was going to miss him, that guy was so much fun.

"My name's Dak," she revealed.

_Bad emotions_, she scolded. _Go sit in your corner_.

The personified emotions did just that. Dak smiled in relief.

"Dak?" Edward echoed inquisitively. "That is not something I would have thought of." He arched an eyebrow at her.

"It's _short_ for Dakota," Dak clarified, putting emphasis on _short_. Edward was visibly fuming, left eye twitching.

"Yeah, that's still kind of a we—" His brother skillfully cut him off.

"I'm Alphonse Elric. This is my older brother, Edward. He's not that bad, I promise," he added amiably and Edward snorted. Dak nodded in acknowledgement. Alphonse continued, "I'm sorry if this is a touchy subject for you and I mean no offense. But why were those... people chasing you?" Alphonse couldn't be sure if she was aware of homunculi or not.

"Because..." Dak trailed off as she remembered exactly why they were chasing her. "OH SHIT."

Edward instantly perked up at this reaction. "What is it?"

"I'm sorry." She was settling into her grand scheming mode, rapidly calculating variables."I'm afraid this is a touchy subject. I'm still in a bit of shock. Could you come back later?"

"Sure. We understand," Alphonse replied with no protest from Edward. "Hope ya feel better," he put in as the two brothers left agreeably out the door.

Ed paused halfway out and shot a glance over his shoulder. "And we will be back later."

* * *

"She might've gotten away with it if it weren't for her 'oh shit' outburst," Edward said. He and his brother were ambling down the hospital corridor. Edward's hands were jammed in his pockets, giving off a casual air.

Alphonse hummed in agreement with his brother. "But you should always try the polite approach first. Nice 'good-cop bad-cop' routine, by the way."

"What?"

"Uh. Nevermind."

* * *

This had been a long day.

First, she had to face the strong possibility that her father was a two-faced jerk and fed her lies all her life. Then, she was sent through a horrific process to being upchucked presumably to the other side of the Gate. She turned up in Amestris, homeland of the characters of her favorite anime. _Then_ she was targeted by homunculi because, as it turned out, she had been in possession of a Philosopher's Stone. She had met the Elric brothers, and was not giving the impression she would've liked.

In conclusion, this day sucked. She ran a hand through her hair in an overt display of stress, focusing on the most important part.

_Lust and Gluttony had a Philosopher's Stone_.

It was her fault, and when she thought about it, her responsibility. She had handed it over with little resistance and because she didn't know how it would impact the storyline, she couldn't let anyone else know. Therefore, the only option was to retrieve it herself.

But that was a stupid idea. What was she going to do, pummel them into the ground like some master martial artist? Like an Edward or an Alphonse? She wasn't like them, which was obvious with how she had coped with everything so far. She could not overcome fear and not dissolve in tears and defeat them ever so heroically. She wasn't brave or strong enough. But what else could she do? Let them use it so Dante could play Body Snatchers? She assumed she was in something akin to the 2003 anime, if the homunculi desired a Philosopher's Stone.

_Why not?_ It wasn't her problem. She was the hellion Dak Mackie, who had next to no conscience and wouldn't concern herself with the death of some random stranger. Except it would be all my fault. But again, she probably couldn't even get it off their hands; maybe they would kill her before she even made a halfhearted attempt.

Dak snorted and shook her head in frustration. No, fuck this. She had never been a wimp before, and she wasn't going to start—or more like continue—now.

Her resolve gathered, she gingerly extricated herself from the mass of blankets. She slid off the bed, overcompensating for her shoulder, and realized two things: she was clad in a hospital gown and an IV line was hooked into the flesh of her inner elbow.

Now she hoped that they hadn't administered morphine, since she was savvy enough in medicine to know that would render her non-functioning. But she didn't feel like she was suffused with morphine, so most likely it was something weaker. She didn't expect to say this, but thank God for that.

Then Dak grimaced, trying to think of some easy way to remove it. It took a moment, but an idea clicked in her head and she looked over to the restricting, wiggly-arm-reminiscent linen. Their blasted tightness might be necessary, after all.

She dug up the draw sheet, surmising it was the thinnest. Dak stared it down. She was uncertain this would work but it was worth a shot. She didn't believe absorbing the knowledge of Truth would instantly make her a master alchemist, but she had the information to start out.

Clapping her hands together, she rummaged through the enormity of information in her head. She came up with a transmutation circle that she somewhat understood, and planted her hands on the sheet.

Only for nothing to happen. She actually single-arm shrugged at this; she wasn't arrogant enough to believe she would get it on her first try. Especially when she knew next to nothing of the subject aside from vague facts jumbled in her head.

Dak, in all her resilience, tried a few more times. Each one came up with scarce effects. The farthest she had gotten was producing a transmutation's fireworks, yet somehow the fabric remained unaffected. Even Dak had her limits with determination, and she lowered herself to her knees. Her hands stayed in place while she depressively dropped her head onto the mattress.

She gave up. She couldn't do it. Mere instruction wasn't enough, she needed first-hand experience to accomplish alchemy. Now what? _Take a nap,_ came the unwelcome response from that proverbial little devil on her shoulder.

No. One more time.

She lifted her head, and eased herself with a deep intake of breath. Her palms clashed, then gravitated to the blanket. Her imaginary circle illuminated, and little bolts of electricity flailed. It ebbed after a minute or so, leaving behind a still unchanged blanket.

"Darn it, why won't you..." she spoke to the blanket as if it was taunting her, clenching her hands in frustration. She gathered fistfuls of the linen, and all of a sudden it ripped. A noticeable hole had opened where she fisted the blanket, easily tearing like a wet sheet of paper.

She stared in shock; _loading, please wait._ Although the transmutations hadn't produced the exact result she wanted, it had somehow thinned out. Her original intention was to alchemically separate a strip, using that as a makeshift bandage for her elbow. The tight-knotted wrapping would have staunched the blood at the very least well enough. But she could make do with a thinner material. It would require more cloth so as to thicken it and apply adequate pressure, but it would suffice.

Thus she estimated the appropriate size the best she could, hurriedly salvaging a sizable piece. The fabric was more than cooperative, and she moved on to the tube impaling her vein. It was hooked inside there disturbingly securely, of course.

"This is gonna be gross," she mumbled, peeling the tape off with nervous digits. Slowly, ever so slowly, she pulled it out. It twitched a little, (and it took all her willpower not to cringe and cause a bigger jerk) but was otherwise a smooth motion.

But efficient extraction or not, blood rapidly poured from from the puncture. Dak was getting very queasy. She quickly grabbed for her gauze substitute, and faced the challenge of tying it around her elbow with a whining shoulder. How she wished she had considered that ahead of time, but too late now. Still, she managed and soon enough her elbow was chafed with a slapdash, but acceptable cuff of ragged linen.

It was taut and constricting—a shudder ran down her spine—but a mess was left. A trickle of blood was coming out from under it. There was also a puddle on the floor. Cursing, Dak hastily soaked up the blood on her arm with the remnants of the draw sheet. She was only doing this to keep anyone from noticing, so the puddle was neglected.

Her other hand squeezed her elbow, wanting to use as much pressure as possible. Bile rose in her throat but she forced it down, similarly to the way she had been treating her emotions all day.

She shifted her focus to her attire. "On the bright side, it could be an awesome super hero costume," she told herself with a roll of her eyes. Her major concern was not fashion, however. More so, it was keeping a low profile and well, hiding evidence that she was a hospital escapee. She couldn't just waltz out like this, she would be like a walking neon sign. One that read "I'm honestly a lunatic and I'm not supposed to be leaving yet tee-hee!" That would not go well.

Dak pondered, tossing the first idea of stealing clothes from a sleeping patient (she had been traumatized enough today, she didn't need to add witnessing nudity to the list)like in the movies. No, just, just no.

Instead, her eyes surfed the room in hopes that they had left her original clothing behind. They soon fell upon her garments, folded in a neat pile and placed on her nightstand. The lemon yellow jacket on top was unexpectedly still lemon yellow, not red, and lacked the gaping mouth on the shoulder it had before. It was like her one-sided scuffle with Lust had never happened, but she could not forget that it did.

It was a likely assumption that two certain alchemists may have repaired her clothes for her, and this made a soft smile upturn her lips. Dak's day was beyond horrible, but meeting the Elric brothers nearly outweighed the cons. Nearly.

Snapping out of it, she grabbed her clothes off the nightstand and struggled into them as fast as her shoulder permitted.

* * *

If Dak recalled correctly, Lust stated they were going to board a train. Without the specifics to where, Dak's best option was to find the station and ask anyone if they had seen them. That is, if they hadn't already left. Believe it or not, she hoped that they weren't gone. Then the job would be so much harder and the urgency of the situation would skyrocket. To avoid a panic attack, she ignored the fact that she had been unconscious for quite some time. Long enough for them to stick an IV in her and bandage up her shoulder, to be exact.

That entailed that most likely, if the homunculi had taken a train, they should be long gone. However, Dak had already decided she couldn't be dissuaded and she sauntered down the hospital hallways. She donned a nonchalant demeanor to avoid suspicion. You got away with things easier when you didn't worry about getting caught.

She had to stop and ask for directions, of course. She sought out an elderly woman, hoping she knew the basics of the hospital's layout. Asking staff was out of the question due to the risk of them recognizing her.

The aforementioned elderly woman was ensconced in a wheelchair, and her whole face brightened at the sight of Dak.

"Good evening." It was evening, right? "I'm sorry to bother you, but could you point me in the direction of the lobby? My Papa isn't in his room so he must be there, but I traveled here to see him and this is my first time in Central..."

The woman was clearly a fan of children. Dak had been right to implement the sweet, diffident child pretext. She was more than eager to help Dak, was even conned out of some Amestrian currency that could pay for a train ticket and maybe some food.

"My mom forgot to give me money for the train ride home when she dropped me off," she had basically explained and the woman was so lonely she forked over a considerable chunk from her wallet. Dak thanked her profusely and meant it, feeling like more of a jerk than usual. The woman told her to think nothing of it as she relinquished any more conversation to direct Dak to the lobby. She could tell the lady was sad to see her go so she gave her a cheek kiss before her heart broke watching.

Later on, Dak was taking her final turn on the bottom floor. Her heart did a freaking back-spring when all-too-familiar voices reached her ears. They were coming from around the corner.

"I'm just going to eat one—"

"Don't, that's her food. You ate yours. Brother, we're supposed to be nice and polite, remember?" Alphonse admonished.

"You call it politeness, I call it ass-kissing. Why don't girls ever buy guys food?" Edward complained.

Dak's eyes darted around frantically for an escape. She spotted an overflowing laundry cart and dashed across the hall to it. She ducked behind it, holding her breath.

"They do," Alphonse countered in his echo-y voice, and his metal feet clicked on the floor as they passed her.

"Uh-huh," said Edward doubtfully. His articulations, if you could call them that, were distorted by whatever he was stuffing in his mouth. He and Alphonse went back and forth, and Dak waited until Al's iron-hard tread receded to cautiously poke her head amidst two stacks of towels.

The hallway was now empty, save for a nurse just exiting a room. Dak swiftly slipped out of the bottom shelf of the cart while her back was still turned. The nurse started when her movement led to the cart falling over, but by the time she looked over Dak was running away and whistling innocently which made it not so innocent.

* * *

Dak endured the process of asking for directions for the umpteenth time, but came back with more than that. The man she had approached informed her of taxicabs which apparently had been invented, and pointed her to where they most frequented. She thanked him, and traipsed over to an overpopulated plaza.

There, she was able to hail a taxi in an instant. The taxi driver halted in front of her and she climbed in, escaping the dense entourage of people.

"Central Station," she told him. He compliantly drove further down the road, tracing the left branch of a fork they met. The whole ride took longer than she had anticipated, as early cars were sluggish, indeed.

Eventually, he pulled in front of a lengthy one-story building. It was scattered with ornate windows and ostentatious smaller roof extensions, and beyond it a few parallel-set railroad tracks rolled off into the distance. The train station was barely visible among the suffocating throng of scurrying citizens.

Dak ignored the icy ball of fear in her stomach as she paid the driver. Shuffling through the money given by the old woman, she handed over the one with the smallest number printed on it. She figured that about covered it since he didn't prompt for more, and slipped out. She shut the door behind her and he drove away with an eruption of a raucously gargling engine.

Dak lingered uncertainly before the bustle made it impossible to perpetuate it, and picked her way to the ticket booth.

"Did you see a woman with big tits dressed in all black and long matching black hair, accompanied by this short, chubby, bald guy with goofy long arms that make him look kinda like a gorilla, come by here?" Dak expatiated to the ticket vendor.

"No?" the man replied in a bemused voice. "And there is a line." He nodded towards the customer she had interrupted, who was shooting a cross between a glare and baffled expression.

"How am I supposed to see it?" Dak countered pleasantly before turning away.

"She makes a point," she caught a prepubescent boy's voice stating among the mishmash of noises in the background. "We should cut the line next time, Mom, and use that excuse."

She sniggered to herself as she went to bring up the rear of the almost imperceptible ticket booth line._ I teach 'em well_. Then she sighed, strategizing while she maintained her spot in line.

If the ticket vendor hadn't witnessed Lust or Gluttony, it could mean a combination of things. One, they were here long ago when someone else was on shift. Two, they were in disguise. She recalled Lust doing it once in Brotherhood, feigning herself as Havoc's gorgeous new girlfriend. Oh, poor Jean. Three, they snuck onto a train. Four, they were never here.

Three carried the strongest possibility, in her opinion. Which meant she'd have to what, try out every train until she found their destination? Ugh. Think. If she was a homunculus serving Dante and had retrieved a Philosopher's Stone, where would she go?

Oh. The city underground Central. The one where there was a secret passageway leading to it in some kind of church. But she had no idea how to get there. Was it even outside Central? Or maybe she could try Dublith, since Dante should be occupying the body of Izumi's mentor at this point in time.

"Hey lady!" the prepubescent voice she heard before broke her thoughts. She started and tracked its owner to the front of the line, several people between them. He pointed to her left. "Are those the guys?"

Dak followed the boy's finger, suddenly grateful for the clamor surrounding her in case it was them. They could have heard and looked over and... she wasn't going there. Her gaze landed on a pair, both draped in full-body cloaks. One was a tall woman whose raven locks leaked from the hood shadowing her face, the other significantly shorter and larger.

Her blood went ice-cold and she nodded to the boy on auto-pilot. He flashed a friendly smile before his mother jerked him away from talking to the "crazy unsupervised girl". She tended to be called that often.

Dak swallowed audibly; now that she was here, everything had stopped. Her body and her thoughts were stalled. What now? What now? _How about not letting them see you_? she suggested to herself sardonically. Taking her own advice, she inconspicuously melted into the crowd. Encompassed by bodies that provided adequate cover, she watched the homunculi from afar.

Lust and Gluttony were unassumingly making their way through the crowd, towards the platform, Dak realized. Of all the luck, she had miraculously somehow caught them just in time. Not wanting to question this unbelievable stroke of luck, she discreetly tailed them, grazing elbows and shouldering through inconsiderate jerks that gave no openings. She was pusillanimous enough that nobody shouted in anger and gave her away, at least, and before she knew it was a few feet behind them as they boarded the train.

"Shoot," Dak hissed under her breath when the train horn sounded. She continued anyway, hoping that some guard wouldn't waylay her and demand a ticket. She wouldn't make it in time to the booth, not with that line. Nobody did, however, so she slowly stepped on.

As soon as she was inside the train, she flashed to the first seat in front of her and ducked behind it. Peering over the top, she located Lust and Gluttony choosing a seat far in the back. Probably to further remain unnoticed.

After a second of apprehensive hesitation, she tried slinking among the rows that divided them. Anyone that noticed, thankfully only expressed their judgements nonverbally. She made it to the seat behind them when Gluttony spoke up, curiously.

"I smell that girl."

Dak's cheeks puffed out like a squirrel with the breath she was holding and she sank to her rear end, back pressed lightly against the spine of their leather seat. Her heart was running like she had from Lust.

"That girl?" Lust inquired, suspicion leaking through her words.

"She's..." Dak squeezed her eyes shut, chiding herself for being so stupid as to not have considered this.

Lust shot up, and grabbed her by the arm. On the bad shoulder, which she suspected was deliberate. "What," she hissed quietly, bending so it was close to her ear, "are you doing here?"

"Getting on a train so I can stay in the exact same place and never travel," Dak shot back, reminding herself that this was a chance for redemption.

"Still have that mouth, I see," Lust responded. Dak was overtaken with confused relief when her arm was released, only for the woman to forcefully drag her over to the seat that faced opposite of theirs. She deposited Dak onto it, who trembled and couldn't tell if running was a good idea. Running might make her susceptible to attack, but staying here was possibly just drawing out an inevitable attack as well.

"Don't think that we won't kill you here because we're afraid a few measly soldiers will try and arrest us," Lust answered that question, effectively pinning Dak there. "Or because you hold valuable information. We already have a Philosopher's Stone, so you're more expendable than you may realize."

"Yet I'm still alive," Dak ventured boldly.

"And I assume you want to keep it that way, so you're going to sit still and don't speak unless you're spoken to. Like kids are supposed to do," Lust commanded.

Agreeing that would be her best course of action for now, Dak frowned and made herself comfortable. She laid recumbent on the seat, legs crossing constantly in her trepidation.

At least she had found them. Now she had far better chances of snatching back the necklace, saving Dante's numerous future victims. But they had found her too, and she was basically being kidnapped and taken to "You-Know-Who" where she would probably face cruel torture as interrogation. The prospect didn't sit well with her, and she wondered if they would have to accompany her to the bathroom so she could regurgitate her high school's mystery meat.

Her gaze shifted cautiously over to Lust, who was keeping a vigilant eye on her. Their eyes met, and Dak hastily evaluated her person for the necklace. Lust narrowed her eyes to slits, and closed the piece of jewelry Dak had spotted in a tight fist.

"Don't even think about it," she warned. Dak nodded and averted her gaze, secretly doing the opposite of what she was told. If she could just get her hands on it, just distract the HOmunculus—heheheh—for ten seconds...

Dak was actually an expert pickpocket, an art that was somewhat necessary to master if you wanted to be an ultimate prankster. All she needed was a brief moment of distraction, but then the escaping portion of that plan could also not be overlooked.

She felt the train jolt and begin to move and finally today she was one hundred percent certain of something: _I'm screwed_. Along with: _I liked it better when I was saving the world with condoms._

* * *

Dak stewed in her seat as minute after minute went by. Not a single feasible escape route could be conceived, thus any diversions were no use. A soft growl of frustration emitted from her, an emotion she rarely expressed. But when one was faced with impossible odds, what could anyone expect? Sheer joy? Yeah, right.

Dak discontinued these thoughts; wracking her own nerves wouldn't help. It would do quite the opposite.

She tried engaging in witty banter to calm herself down. It was one of her favorite activities, after all. "Sooo," she began. "How come it took you so long to reach the station?"

Lust seemed to scrutinize her before deeming the question safe. "Commotion," she said with an accusatory undertone. Obviously, Dak had made it harder to traverse the city unnoticed. The soldiers had been on high alert for them and the witnesses were just as vigilant. With almost half of the city after them, they were forced to lay low for a while. It turned out that Pride caught wind of this, fortunately, and somehow eased up the search party without looking too suspicious. Lust and Gluttony were finally able to slip through. Lust shrugged, pulling a smirk. She then re-focused on Dak, who flashed a proud grin.

"Are you sure you weren't impaired by your hooker boots and Fatass being out of shape?" she asked innocently.

"Huh?" Gluttony contributed.

"No," Lust said calmly. "What took you so long? Your shoulder?"

"Well, sort of. There's also passing out for some time, sneaking out of the hospital, and finding my way around. Oh, I also pulled my IV out on my own." She grimaced at the memory. "But hey, it's a better excuse than unfit shoes. Maybe you were busy working your corner as well?"

"Need I remind you, you're more disposable than you seem to think?" Lust warned in a sing-song voice.

Dak displayed a smarmy smirk. No, she didn't need to be reminded. Which was why she was scrambling for a passable escape plan. Entertaining herself was usually a way for her to achieve clarity. Although, she paled a little under the assault of Lust's sharp, violet eyes. Maybe she should find some other source for amusement. Wavering slightly, she decided a few meaningless insults wouldn't hurt her.

"Were there, like, several customers? Or did you get a trooper?" she asked, upping the ante.

Lust sneered. "I've never met a child quite so vul—" She broke off, attention diverted when they felt the train ease into a halt. The tracks issued a high-pitched squeak before the train stalled completely. There was no immediate explanation from the conductor—to the chagrin of some outspoken passengers—but the entrance to the car unfolded. Seeing a potential getaway, Dak obnoxiously ascended to the top of her seat to see what was going on.

"Get down," Lust snapped.

Dak was startled, garnering a rarely seen flash of anger from her. "I know you must have a lot of illegitimate children, but you're not my mother," she flared, but surrendered when met with an onslaught of daggers from Lust's eyes, reluctantly sitting back down. She felt that Lust had stabbed her enough for one day, and didn't want her soul to be penetrated.

"Hey, why'd we stop? I want to hurry up," Gluttony piped up at last.

Lust frowned. "I have a faint idea," she said more eerily than usual. Dak prickled with irritation, the tone of voice reminiscent of her father querying about Fullmetal Alchemist. She set her jaw tight and dismissed the memory.

"So what is it?" she pressed.

"Be quiet lest you want Gluttony to eat a limb," Lust threatened with her velvety, raunchy lilt, making him perk up.

"Like a chicken leg?" Dak asked daringly, foolishly. Her fear, she discovered from all the harping, was hampered whenever she imagined Dante stealing the body of someone she cared about. Envisioning Grayson with a deteriorating body, skin deforming into something like molten rock, motivated her to complete her mission. More confident now than ever, she flashed a grin that was garnished with a characteristic she liked to call, "shit-eating".

Lust smirked back. "Like a chicken leg," she confirmed.

Dak snorted and was about to retaliate, when she noticed a train attendant finally strolling to the door. She scurried over to Lust's seat, standing beside her to have a closer look. Strangely enough, Lust didn't say a word. She didn't even shove Dak away from her personal bubble. Dak shrugged it off and began spying with rapt attention.

The train attendant—or was it actually the conductor?—came to the ajar door and bowed curtly to whoever was outside. He then straightened and exchanged subdued words. It appeared congenial, but Dak couldn't make it out from her distance.

"...quick look," was the clearest fragment she gathered. It was disappointing but she didn't care that much.

The conductor/attendant seemed to ponder something a moment before nodding. He stepped aside to let them on. An unmistakable suit of armor and all-too-familiar scrawny figure entered the train.

Edward Elric and Alphonse Elric turned in her direction. They spotted her, and she stared with her jaw unhinged. How could they...

Lust suddenly yanked her away, deliberately rough and whispered, "You're more trouble than you're worth."

"Is this what you're looking for?" she shouted in a sickly sweet voice, lifting Dak with one hand by her neck. Dak vehemently kicked her legs, trying and failing to articulate something.

"DAK!" she heard Alphonse cry, just as three of Lust's fingers speared her torso. These three particular fingers were concentrated somewhere around her heart. Dak's eyes widened as her kicking ceased, and with impressive force Dak had no idea Lust possessed, her fingers thrust the girl straight through the nearest glass window. It shattered easily, exploding into shards that pricked her in a myriad of places.

Lust retracted her claws almost as soon as Dak crashed to the ground. They slid out with an abhorrent slimy sound. The wind was knocked out of her from the impact of her fall, and so many areas on her body at once competed for her attention as the most painful. The winner, of course, being the deep wound in her chest.

She saw, through increasingly hazing vision, Lust gracefully glide through the window and Gluttony carelessly breaking through the wall. They made a run for it, Lust delivering taunts over her shoulder at the brothers.

"Better attend to your second girlfriend!" Lust cackled.

Glancing over, she could see that a livid Edward had already leapt out of the cart and was hot on her heels. He balked, however, at the mention of Dak as though he'd forgotten her. She wouldn't be surprised. Alphonse was already dashing to her side, and Edward lingered for another second before following.

"Can you hear me?" Alphonse sank to his knees in the grass, looming over her.

"Mmmm-hm," Dak ascertained. A gob of blood occluded her throat, and she turned her head to the side to cough it up. Classy.

"Damn them," Edward seethed once he joined them. "They go through the trouble of snatching her from a hospital, then throw her away!" he yelled, but his voice faltered halfway through. He reached over to unzip Dak's jacket partially and examine the wound more closely.

"Definitely fatal," he whispered.

Dak was having trouble grasping the concept of dying. People didn't expect to die. Not when they grew up in a safe society, pampered and oblivious to the true evils of the world. Death was something that only happened to the victims featured on the news, not them.

But Dak wasn't in a safe society anymore, and she definitely wasn't ignorant either. She had been promoted to a person that saw the darker sides of reality, and may have lived to bear its weight.

Besides, she had rushed into a situation with high chances of death like an idiot. But the Philosopher's Stone...

This was really happening.

"We're sorry," Alphonse said in a gravelly voice. Edward hung his head, lush bangs curtaining his countenance.

Dak blinked in confusion, but when it registered to her what they were apologizing for, she'd never been so angry. "Ed. Al." Edward tilted his head up the slightest inch to show his acknowledgment. "If you... blame yourselves for this, I'll.. h-haunt you both," she choked out. "Trust... me... You don't... want that."

Edward's head snapped up completely and a portion of perplexity entered his grievous expression. He may have been taken aback that she had so accurately guessed what they were thinking, she wasn't sure.

But then his expression softened and he sported a sad smile. "You're not so bad."

There, she reached the status of "not so bad" in Edward Elric's eyes before dying. That accomplishment made her demise a little less tragic.

"I'd like... to die alone," she rasped, before dissolving into another blood-laden coughing fit. Alphonse briefly, carefully lifted her upper body so it didn't all sink back into her throat, as if it would do any good. She was probably going to drown in her blood, either way, if her left lung was punctured. It ceased and after patiently waiting, Edward spoke.

"I don't understand that," he said softly, "but we'll have to respect your wishes." Dak mustered a smile in thanks. "C'mon, Al." The eldest brother rose to his feet, but Alphonse hesitated.

"We're really going to leave her here?" Alphonse said.

Edward seemed to lose his speech, so Dak cut in, "Please." She looked imploringly at Alphonse and he at last got off the ground and followed his brother to the group of soldiers just now leaving the wreck.

"Bye, Dak," were his parting words to her.

Dak had felt exceptionally cruel when she tricked that elderly woman to obtain money, but that was nothing compared to this. Ignoring the guilt, she unfurled her right fist. The Philosopher's Stone necklace sat in her palm, eliciting her smirk. It was funny how Lust hadn't even noticed she had two free hands to pick up Dak and stab her in the first place. The gravely injured teenager chuckled feebly before staring pensively at the Stone. An inevitable, but still repulsive thought wormed its way into her brain.

_I could save my life with this_.

But how could she even consider, for one second, that her life was tantamount to stolen, trapped souls? Especially her, a cruel mischief-maker who wasn't really valued or needed by anyone. The only people that would miss her dearly were Grayson and at one point, she would've thought, Mr. Woodrow and her father. There were others, like a handful of friends she never saw outside her school or some teachers that had warmed up to her. But other than that, the world would continue rotating on its axis and everyone would recover. Hell, her absence was actually beneficial for the most part—as Melissa had so eloquently put it about a week ago.

* * *

_A few girls were tarrying at their lockers, Melissa being the center of attention. As Dak approached her own locker with Grayson alongside her, the conversation became intelligible._

_"You won't even guess the band I booked. Go ahead, guess!" she prattled enthusiastically. Melissa had perfectly straight, ruddy hair that was almost ginger quality, walnut brown eyes and undeniably beautiful, porcelain features. Dak herself had never denied that Melissa wasn't a natural beauty, but in her opinion it was offset by the prudish, prim but brightly colored apparel she preferred._

_"One Direction?" one of the girls asked hopefully._

_"I'm not a millionaire, Jamie," Melissa said in slight exasperation._

_Dak ignored them as she came to stand afront her locker and spun in the combination. She simply didn't feel bored enough to interact with Melissa at the moment. Grayson leaned against the lockers beside her, quirking one eyebrow subtly. Dak shrugged in response._

_"Another amazing thing about my prom is that rule-breaking and disrespectful hooligans are banned," Melissa raised her voice. "Although, those kind are always banned from events, aren't they?" she simpered. The girls didn't seem to understand at first, but once they were aware of Dak's presence they were on edge. One went considerably ashen and left. Dak and Melissa were well-known for skirmishes tagged scary or hilarious or both._

_"Oh hey there, Dak," Melissa chirped like she only just realized Dak was there. A brunette snickered while the other hissed that she "best shut up"._

_Dak rolled her eyes. "Hello. I'm not interested in going to a prom where speakers from the D.A.R.E program count as a band, but have fun," she said cheekily. Dak extracted her required binders from her locker before closing it._

_"Wrong guess. It's too bad. Grayson probably wanted to go with you." Melissa turned her gaze on him and smiled sweetly._

_Grayson threw his hands up in surrender. "I am not involved," he said quickly. "I'm going to class. Good-bye, ladies." He gave a tip of an imaginary hat to all of them, garnering a giggle from the brunette and a jocular waggle of the eyebrows from Dak. He laughed at Dak's gesture and turned to leave, when Melissa called out._

_"She doesn't care about you." He angled his head to look at her expressionlessly. "And she's never going to date you. She's stringing you along. She's laughing her head off while you follow her around like a lovesick puppy. I'm telling the truth and out of genuine concern." She glared askance at Dak. Dak was unusually stern yet observing with fascination._

_"I just like hanging out with her. No need to make a chick flick out of it," he replied gently and strode off. The two other girls fled as well, escaping the tense atmosphere._

_"It really makes me sick, watching you torture that kid," Melissa spat with unbridled anger now that the halls were cleared. She stormed to stand directly in front of Dak. She was a few inches taller, but Dak was unperturbed._

_"I've been nothing but honest with him," she said placidly._

_"Doesn't matter. If you had a heart, you'd make him leave," Melissa growled._

_"I told him that was his choice and it would probably be in his best interest to leave," Dak explained, before adding as an afterthought, "not that I need to justify myself to you."_

_"You can't justify yourself being a disrespectful, cold-blooded little brat anyway. You just are."_

_Dak abruptly thrust a fist at a locker, and leaned in threateningly to the red-head's face. Melissa stepped back, caught off guard by Dak's uncommon expression of anger._

_"You know, criticizing my antics at school is just fine. Amusing, really. But why are you getting personal all of a sudden?" she asked softly._

_"Oh, there's something you actually take seriously?" Melissa sneered, courage rejuvenated. "And it's because someone has to step in, since you're even worse iny our personal life! Clearly your parents have never heard of discipline!"_

_"Want me to crash your prom?" Dak flared._

_"Want to get your ass kicked?!"_

_"I don't think I have to worry about that, wuss!"_

_"If you do ruin my prom, I hope you get expelled!" Melissa screeched, face reddening in a way that normally would have made Dak guffaw. She shook a fist in the other girl's face. "This school is better off without you! This whole world is better off without you!"_

* * *

And here Melissa's wish had been granted perfectly. She scoffed lightly; the universe(s) sure had a dark sense of humor. Drawing a strenuous breath, Dak managed to get her hysterical sobs under control. As a result, the excruciating pain that succeeded each tearful tremor in her chest finally left. She sniffled quietly with relief, even though the full extent of her ache wasn't alleviated. The original pain continued to pulsate in synchronization with her heart's dwindling throbs, garnering winces from her.

At least it would be over soon. Death was indeed, a borderline mercy.

Her eyes shuttered as she waited for the darkness to overtake her. Incredible fear, reluctance and that sordid urge for self-preservation clamored. She forced herself to ignore it all, last drops of consciousness trickling away. She was almost gone when an echo rang out at the edge of her consciousness.

_"You're not so bad."_

It was Edward's ill-informed final judgement of her. Had she been able to, she would've laughed dryly because he didn't have an inkling of how bad(ass) she was. But since she couldn't, she remained as she was until Alphonse's voice was the next to rebound to the forefront of her mind.

_"We're sorry."_

Sorry for politely leaving the room when asked, not expecting her to drag herself out and into the open claws that had put her there in the first place? That didn't make them responsible, it was her own recklessness. It miffed her that they wanted to claim the fault, and it was depressing as she realized her insistence of their innocence would not sway them. If only she could be spared an extra minute to wring out their neck.

Wait.

That was right. They would blame themselves, as they had with Hughes and Nina, despite her warning to haunt them. Heck, she would already be haunting them, just not in the way she had meant. A deep, fiery desire to save them from the burden accumulating was conceived and nursed to full force. Opening her eyes, she glanced over to her last possible chance at life. It was ensconced in her palm, her skin tingling with hyper-awareness of its presence. She whimpered and looked away, afraid to use it and afraid to not use it. Her body trembled with the overwhelming indecision, and a few seconds passed before her arm was functioning and bringing the pendant to hover over her chest. With profound hesitance, she gingerly brought it to rest on the wound. Tears brimmed her eyes. For some reason, she valued her unworthiness of adding to the Elrics' immense number of traumas, over her unworthiness of using a soul to heal herself.

When she thought about, she saved someone else out there from Dante replacing the souls inhabiting their bodies with hers. Could that be considered equivalent exchange, maybe?

God, she made herself sick. How could she even think to apply equivalence with abusing souls?

Squeezing her eyes shut, she clapped numbly before overlapping the Stone with both of her hands. She could feel its power—sick, sick, sick—pervade her wound with tender warmth as her mental transmutation circle guided it, but there was just one problem.

Dislodging another lump of blood from her throat, the looming darkness at last crashed over her consciousness. She was too late and passed out, possibly for the last time.

**A/N: **Well first of all, I'd like to think all who are reading, so thank you! Second, probably my biggest concern is OOC-ness. It felt to me like Lust had more of a temper than usual, then again I don't think she's confronted with Dak's kind of insinuations often... If anyone doesn't seem IC, pretty please don't be afraid to point it out.


	4. Fatal Heartbreaks

**ShiningHeart:** That's just it, she's being anal about not affecting the storyline. In her point of view, anything could happen, bad or good if they got the Stone early. I honestly don't agree with her either. xD It's an issue with her that is going to be addressed later in the story. Just thought I'd clear this up. Thanks for reviewing.

**Chapter 4: Fatal Heartbreaks**

She heard... voices?

Creaking her eyes open, she was greeted with a splatter of colors. The blots of colors were mostly disfigured but able to be separately discerned. Some of them were tan and moved, accessorized by shades of blue or white. Those most likely represented human beings. Behind them, was relatively featureless white. The white reminded her of the abyssal space that the Gate resided in, and she inferred she was dead.

"I'm... sorry," came a raspy whisper. She sobbed, unable to focus on anything but the memory of attempting to use another's soul for self-preservation. "So s-sorry."

"_Ee's wake_," someone uttered.

"_F git wake, zee's ive_," another responded coherently enough to radiate their awe.

Dak passed out again.

* * *

The next time she awoke, she maintained her consciousness. Her eyes opened to imbibe a familiar hospital room and through her peripheral vision, two familiar people. One of them was sitting in a chair, and the other was a hulking suit of armor. The one in the chair was a certain blond boy with flashing golden eyes and a braid drooping lazily over his shoulder.

"Am I dead?" she asked. Her mind was still quite jumbled, more so than usual. She was beyond confused because she was positive she had died before having a chance to completely vanish the wound. She kind of hoped that she was dead because that was what she deserved.

"Isn't that the million dollar question?" Edward spoke acidly. He rose to his feet and came to her bed side.

"Uh..." Dak said absently. "I don't have a million dollars, so. All I've got are free hugs."

"The doctor called it one of your rare medical miracles," Edward went on, ignoring her joke that was actually unintentional. "Thing is, my brother and I don't believe in miracles. We are men of science."

"Brother, she looks disoriented right now," Alphonse interjected.

"Good. Maybe she'll accidentally blurt the truth," Edward sniffed.

"Truth," Dak echoed softly and dispassionately. Suddenly her eyes widened and she sprung up from her bed automatically. Before Edward could stop her from leaving again, she burst into the bathroom and carelessly left the door fully ajar. She sank to her knees in front of the toilet and discharged what was probably nothing but stomach acid into it from her mouth.

Edward and Alphonse were quiet as she hurled. She ripped off pieces of toilet paper to wipe her mouth with after spitting a few times in a vain effort to dispel the taste.

"Are you okay?" Alphonse asked gently after a moment. Dak hadn't realized they were watching from the doorway and she sighed with resignation.

She had cried, hacked up blood, and puked in front of her idols. What next, shitting her pants?

Without answering Alphonse, she pulled herself to her feet being supported by quivering legs. She walked over to the nearby mirror and observed herself. What she saw was in no way endearing. She sighed again at her hair, which was so tangled it bothered her for once. Her appearance was disheveled overall, a bruise traversing across her neck imprinted by Gluttony's arm and scabby cuts adorning her body from dozens of shards of glass.

Her shoulders slumped. "Do I look okay?" She turned to Alphonse whose feet shifted in sheepishness. Shaking her head, she answered the pleas of weak legs for once and started picking her way to her bed.

"You look like shit," Edward supplied bluntly as Alphonse thoughtfully swept her into his arms to carry her over to the bed. He set Dak down gently who donated him a tired but grateful smile.

"Brother!" he scolded on instinct.

"She asked," Edward said, shrugging.

"It's okay, Alphonse," Dak stated calmly before he could dispute to his brother. Even though he lacked the required countenance, she could sense the confused smile on his... helmet. "Honesty is a virtue."

"Funny you'd say that." Edward hummed before rounding the bed to one of the chairs. One of them was occupied with a blanket that he instantly threw at her.

"What's this?" Dak asked slightly irately as she yanked it from her head.

Edward slowly strode to her bed side once more, sporting an inscrutable expression. "This," he indicated to the blanket by grasping the end, "is the sheet you resourcefully changed with alchemy for material that would substitute as gauze and prevent you from bleeding to death when you took out your IV."

She froze and stared.

He continued, "Which you did so that you could, for some reason, self-discharge yourself from the hospital. Whatever the reason, it must have been urgent for you to leave in such a condition. Maybe you had something to hide that you desperately didn't want us to find out."

"Brother..."

His plea fell on deaf ears as the Fullmetal Alchemist all but scorched her with his eyes. "So when we came back—generously with your dinner by the way, at least I got to eat it—all we saw at first was your absence and a mess of blood. As well as no sign of a transmutation circle to manipulate this blanket. But we were too panicked to examine more closely and assumed with horror that the blood was from a struggle when those people had taken you. We asked for soldiers to be dispatched and scoured the city, questioning anyone if they had seen you.

"Your shorts are a bit unusual so eventually someone led us to you, saying you were asking for the directions to a train station and significantly lacking any shady characters holding you captive. Now we had no idea what was going on but thought surely someone must have kidnapped you. We went to said train station, once again led to which train. With military authority, we had it stalled. And we found you, no longer lacking aforementioned shady characters. You received a killing blow."

Dak shrank back.

Edward was vibrating with restrained anger as he blathered, "You told us you wanted to die alone. You somehow knew I thought it was my fault, but you still fooled me into thinking you would die! But you only didn't want me to see whatever the hell it was you did, knowing that you would not, in fact, die!" he finished at last, voice escalating several octaves.

Save for the Gate, Edward's expression and if-looks-could-kill type of glare was the scariest thing she had ever seen.

Dak could only stare speechlessly, engaging a staring contest that seemed to last eons.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself?" Edward whispered at last. Alphonse finally joined them and clapped a consoling hand on Ed's shoulder. His elder brother's glower let up somewhat, but remained terrifyingly potent.

"Yes." Dak found her voice, but was still too befuddled for anything clever. "Back off, please."

"Like last time? I don't think so!" he barked and started swearing blue streaks, stopping by Alphonse's coaxing for the grand finale, "I want a God-damn apology and then we'll discuss backing off!"

"You're not getting one," Dak weakly refused.

"What!" His exclamation reverberated through the whole room. Alphonse seemed just as stupefied.

"I don't want to apologize if I don't mean it," she explained softly.

Edward stared at her for what seemed like eons again. "Fucking unbelievable," he said, a flash of genuine hurt in her eyes. He turned away and trudged toward the door.

"Brother?" Alphonse queried.

"Watch her," he said a little snappishly without looking over and left the room. He slammed the door behind him with a resounding bang.

It was responded with a contrasting silence.

Dak looked up at Alphonse. "Are you mad at me too?" She wouldn't blame him if he was and she didn't blame Edward either. She was well aware of the turmoil she had put both of them through and it was indeed a nasty thing to do. It was just that, what other choice did she have? She couldn't let them see the Philosopher's Stone for a variety of reasons, and she certainly didn't want to be seen using it. Plus, she had basically done it for them...

No, actually, she doubted that. Like before, her stomach knotted as she wondered if that had been an excuse to console herself for the selfish act. But the point was, she had done it and was far more concerned with that alone. She regretted it but tricking the Elrics was necessary. And she was more concerned by her greedy misuse of the Stone.

_Sick, sick, sick_. She felt like puking again. But she doubted she had anything to puke and was she going to throw up every time she thought about this? It would make a nice punishment, come to think of it. Not enough but still.

"I think you had your reasons," Alphonse derailed her train of thought centered around exactly that, "and Brother knows that too. He's just not thinking straight at the moment. But yes, I can't help being upset."

A moment passed when Dak unexpectedly dragged herself from the bed again. "I can't offer an apology because it would be pointless when I don't mean it. It's probably stupid that I'm not sorry, but I just can't."

"Where are you going?" Alphonse asked with mild incredulity.

"To give you both what I can," Dak said as she crossed the room. She went out the door with Alphonse in tow. She found Edward leaning against the wall alongside the door, scowling at the floor. Hearing their approach, he lifted his head. His scowl deepened at the sight of Dak.

"What?" he snapped.

"I won't give you a dishonest sorry," she began nervously. She had no idea how to do this. Being sentimental was not her forte. "But I will tell you that I never meant to hurt either of you, and feel like how I look for it. Like shit. And I wish I hadn't done it. If I had a choice, I wouldn't have. But it's no excuse and yes I'm a horrible person and yes you have the right to hate my guts and yes I don't deserve forgiveness," she blurted, winging it. She wasn't sure that would work but they deserved the closest to an apology she could manage.

Edward seemed to assess her with his eyes, his greatest weapon. Finally, he dropped his gaze and mumbled, "Whatever. Just stay in your bed for once."

Dak beamed at the even minimal result. "Wait, I still have something to give you."

Edward looked at her with confusion and blatant impatience for her to get back in bed, already.

"Free hugs!" Dak cried out and latched onto him without warning in the form of promised hug. She had been wanting to do that since she laid eyes on him, as in on the show itself, and her inner fangirl needed to be placated some time or another. It might explode if it wasn't.

Edward stumbled backward and probably would've lost his balance if he weren't so agile. "What the—get off me! Who even charges for hugs?!"

"Hug prostitutes. Duh." Dak rolled her eyes and he scowled with fright and bewilderment. "You too, Al, you big teddy bear, you!" She moved on to her next more willing victim, arms encircling as much of the circumference of the armor as she could.

"This is the first time someone hugged me since I uh, started wearing armor~" Alphonse crooned. Edward face-palmed and Dak giggled.

"Mind carrying me again before my legs give out?" she asked, looking up at the towering suit of armor.

"Sure," he chirped, lifting her up once more. He carried her into the room and laid her down gingerly onto the bed. Edward followed after, grumbling once under his breath.

"So," he said blandly, joining his brother at the edge of her bed. "Not that I'm complaining, but how are you alive?"

"Um..." Dak watched her twiddling thumbs and tried to think of something. Buy more time to think of said something, maybe? "Can I take a shower first?"

"Right after you answer the question." He smirked wryly.

"I think it could wait another ten or so minutes," Alphonse came to her aid. "Let me get you a towel."

"Thanks Al," Dak said as he nodded and sauntered out. The door clicked shut and the vein on Edward's temple became more pronounced.

"Can I at least know your surname?" he asked.

"My what now?" replied Dak, not exactly literate.

"Your last name."

"Oh... Why are you being so fancy about it?" Edward looked at her like she was stupid. She probably was. "It's Mackie," she sighed, supposing it didn't matter.

"More believable than Dakota," he mused.

"Dakota is fairly normal where I come from." Dak shrugged and stiffened when she realized her slip-up.

"You're not Amestrian?" Edward asked, puzzled. "Your eyes are definitely Amestrian."

This evaluation and what it could entail shocked Dak. She raised her hand which shook to touch below her eye._ Dad_...

"What's wrong?" Edward asked, still puzzled. Dak was beyond grateful when Alphonse entered, brandishing a towel and wash cloth.

"Here, Dak. And tell you what, I'll go out and buy you some toiletries and lunch for the three of us." He gravitated toward her and she took the proffered items. She slipped out of bed, and did her best to ignore the frisson of excitement surging through her when Edward caught her shoulder to help steady her. Like a gentleman.

"Thanks. Seriously," she said to them both.

Edward shrugged. "Sure you don't need help walking?" he said, removing his hand. Dak shook her head and smiled. It was hard to tell if he was fighting back a reciprocating smile or not.

"Guess I'll update the Colonel," he said, of course not sounding thrilled.

* * *

Dak had been desperately hoping that it was all a dream. But apparently, that wasn't the case.

Sighing, she denuded and set the shower to a decently warm temperature. Climbing in, she sat herself on one of those blessed built-in seats branching off the shower wall. Now that she actually had time, she contemplated the eventful yesterday as she doused her hair. Her hand absentmindedly took the generic shampoo off a shelf.

She couldn't fathom how she had been transported here in the first place, knowing alchemy wasn't supposed to work on her side. That was what she understood from Conqueror of Shamballa, at least. But in retrospect, they had intermingled it with witchcraft for the desired result. Dad had apparently owned a wide selection of Wiccan books as well, so maybe he had similarly incorporated magic mumbo-jumbo.

She grimaced; thinking of her father left a bad taste in her mouth. Or a second one, counting the strong tang of stomach acid. Her fingers idly worked the shampoo into a sudsy lather. Meanwhile, her heart reserved an animosity for her father she never thought it was capable of.

It was infuriating that all those "business trips," all the self-sufficience and inattention, the whole time he must've in reality been studying up on something. She couldn't imagine, when he had something like a Philosopher's Stone in his possession, what exactly he was researching. It chilled her to the core to consider what macabre acts he may have committed to obtain it.

Swallowing, she stood and tilted her head back to rinse. Who was Dad, really?

He had known of the existence of Amestris, of that much she was certain. And possibly, from what Edward observed earlier, he originated from Amestris. That couldn't be, could it? He mentioned her blood line containing some German genes before, so it could have very well been a coincidence. But suppose it wasn't, did that mean somehow he got stuck on the opposite side of the Gate?

There was definitely more to her father than she ever imagined. And that deeply wounded her, because she had tried so hard to be understanding and love him, to believe him when he claimed to love her too, but he was a liar. A two-faced liar.

She uselessly wiped away a few tears that were barely distinguished from the shower water. Whatever was going on, she supposed she would try to find out. And even more importantly, get back home. She didn't care if she was Amestrian or not, she belonged in her small community where she satiated herself with disturbing the peace rather than this chaotic place that was too much for even Dak Mackie to handle.

She meticulously scrubbed herself down before turning the water off at last.

* * *

Dak was halfway presentable by the time she was out of the bathroom. Smiling brightly, she relished the feeling of less matted hair, skin free of grit and blood stain, and the fresh soapy aurora. She crossed over to her bed and tucked herself in, minimizing the number of sheets of course.

Edward was sitting in what was becoming his usual chair, and his gaze was trained on her. Dak blinked naively at the expression in it, which was not hostile for once but holding something else she couldn't place.

"What?" she said.

Edward twitched like he had been smacked out of his trance and said, "Nothing."

"Do I still look that bad?" she asked, minutely sulking.

"You look like me after Alphonse takes stray cats off the streets. But yeah, you look better." He smirked good-naturedly.

"Close enough." Dak laid back, her arms crossed below her head like a makeshift pillow. "I just can't wait for Alphonse to get back with a toothbrush and hairbrush." Definitely the toothbrush. She frowned at the phantom, rancid tang in her mouth.

"And food," Edward agreed dreamily. Dak giggled at the normalcy of it and his smile flattened, presumably wondering what was so funny.

"How'd it go with the Colonel?" Dak mused sociably.

Edward's eyes narrowed, a response unpredictable to her. "Do I know you from somewhere?"

Dak was taken aback and barely leveled her voice. "Um, I highly doubt it."

"How strange. You exude familiarity with my brother and I, and now Colonel Bastard too." He pocketed his hands and went to her bed side, frowning down at her. "Maybe I'm just imagining it, but your behavior is still weird. I'm almost certain that the last time you woke up, you knew exactly how I would react to the comment... on my height," he snarled the last snippet.

He really was perceptive, wasn't he? Dak scolded herself to be more careful.

"Okay then, Edward. Tell me your theories on how it is I know you so well and you've never seen me before yesterday. Anyone ever tell you you're paranoid?" She smiled kindly in hopes of easing him even an iota.

Alas, Edward looked unconvinced. "Better paranoid than totally ignorant. As a matter of fact, I do have some theories. None of them are solid until I have sufficient facts, however." He pulled a shark-tooth grin. "That I intend to glean."

"You could do that much faster if you'd be politer about it," Dak said darkly, sitting up and leaning away from him slightly.

"Why do I have the sneaking suspicion you're only wanting me to ease up so you can lie better?" Edward retorted.

For God's sake, was he reading her mind?

She composed a plausible smile that was aglow with sweetness and understanding. "But maybe at least give me a chance to cooperate first?"

He'd better not fuck with her. She knew all his weaknesses and exactly what to do with them. Outwardly, her overwhelmingly sweet smile grew. If Edward wanted to play it the hard way, then fine. She would do this as tactfully as possible, because she had some important goals, too. Like getting back home as soon as possible to the people she loved to torment and, okay, plain loved. She would also like to investigate her father while she was here, and it would serve as a great advantage if she could somehow keep Edward and Alphonse at her side.

Edward continued to loom intimidatingly as he considered her. "You have had a chance to cooperate."

"One more?" She erected one finger and subtly batted her eyelashes. Topped with the smile, it was practically nonnegotiable.

"Fine." Edward ground his teeth as he subtracted a step from her. "Starting now. How are you alive?"

"I'm a zombie," Dak said cheekily, secretly stalling to craft a believable lie. Edward scowled mildy and she pressed on, "Lighten up. Have you ever heard of alkahestry?"

"You mean alchemy?" he asked in that typical "you're an idiot" voice.

"No, although they're similar. Alkahestry is Xing's version of alchemy. The difference is, it's used more for medical purposes."

"I've never heard of it," Edward said skeptically.

Dak shrugged, accustomed to using one shoulder by now. "It's not well-known in this country. I wouldn't be surprised if your little privileged military libraries lacked any information on it. But anyway, I knew a thing or two and was able to close the wound and stop the bleeding as much as I could before I passed out."

She had assessed her wound herself in the shower. It was, in fact, mostly stretched shut courtesy of the Philosopher's Stone. Or of the human souls.

"I don't understand why you would try to hide this from me."

"You're a State Alchemist." It was Dak's turn for the "duhhh" tone. "You might have arrested me on the spot for human transmutation, not realizing what it was."

"Oh." He didn't seem totally convinced, but he wasn't branding her with suspicious glares anymore. "I'll have to look into this 'alkahestry' thing. If it's so unknown, how are you aware of it?"

"My father travels globally for work." That was true. "He likes to bring back souvenirs for me." If he remembers.

"Traveling globally?" Edward repeated doubtfully. "That sounds difficult."

Dak opened her mouth to inquire the significance of such a detail, when she realized they didn't have the luxury of airplanes here and shut it. Edward raised an eyebrow, finishing it off with a challenging smirk.

"Yeah, so I haven't seen him in years," Dak said at last. She added another plastic smile to convey that she was okay.

"Hm." Edward's expression became inscrutable. "How about no transmutation circle on the blanket?" he asked after a short pause.

"Chalk in my shorts pocket. It was drawn on the section of the blanket that I took with me," she fibbed.

Edward broke into a stunningly radiant, but cocky grin. "We asked for that piece when they brought you in. There wasn't a trace of chalk on it." He leaned in toward Dak again whose eyes had grown twice their size. "Got you."

"It's just an ability I have," Dak mumbled, surrendering as she couldn't come up with any good explanation for how she did it and why she lied about it, "okay?"

Edward withdrew his comparatively bigger shadow, again, and looked at her with shock. She patiently waited as he digested it, and soon enough he found his voice. "Like you've seen me do?"

Dak nodded, becoming engrossed in her fingernails. "Mm-hmm."

"But..." Edward skimmed her with his eyes, vaguely confused at the lack of, well, lacking. "What did it take?" he asked softly, even hesitantly. He may have felt presumptuous to ask it.

That was when Dak had a stroke of genius, and was never more proud of her cunning self right then.

She performed a heartbreaking smile and explained, "That's just it. I think it selectively took memories. Anything to do with how I got here in Central, and how I can get home. I can remember my childhood and everything, but not exactly where I lived or how to contact anyone I know. I've been speculating that, maybe, it technically took my home away from me."

It was an impeccable, elaborate lie. One that not only should get her off the hook, but would serve as an excuse for them to help her get home.

Edward paused, dissecting her fabrication. Like he would find a flaw. It was perfect.

"That answers the question as to why you haven't contacted loved ones about a near-death experience yet," he said thoughtfully. "Let me get this straight, you can remember faces, your upbringing, important events and all that. But nothing that could help you get back home. Why not just wipe your memory completely?"

"If I had to guess? So I can fully experience the pain of missing home," she threw out there.

"You have some awfully solid theories," Edward said, suspicion creeping back into his words.

She resisted rolling her eyes. "I've certainly had time to think about it."

"Moving on for now," he murmured. Dak got the strangest feeling it was too sensitive a subject for him. "Why did you leave?"

"I got bored." She sighed dramatically.

He glared. "This isn't funny."

"Your face isn't funny. And that's because you're being a crab butt."

"Why don't you just answer my question seriously?" said the proclaimed crab butt all crabby-butt-ish.

The door opened just then, admitting an Alphonse carrying two plastic bags. He glanced between the two of them.

"Food!" Edward cheered capriciously.

"Oral hygiene!" Dak enthused. She couldn't wait to vigorously scrub every inch of her mouth.

Alphonse chuckled and set the bags on one of the chairs. He rooted them for her lunch first, which Edward made a face at. She received a Styrofoam container of Japanese-like noodles. She took the lid off and dove the provided fork in the noodles. Her hand seemed to ignore the electrical impulses sent by her brain and wouldn't lift the noodles to her putrid orifice. She looked up at the two, appetite not exactly empowered by Edward's frenzied eating.

Alphonse was already looking back at her curiously.

"I think I'll wait for it to cool down." She smiled, attaching the lid back onto the container and setting it on her night stand. "And brush my teeth. Yes, before a meal." She strived to remove herself from the bed.

"I could get you something else, if that's the issue. It's no problem," Alphonse said, causing a twinge of guilt in her chest, "I should've asked for your preference first, anyway. I just figured most people liked ramen."

Edward interrupted distractedly, "Everyone likes ramen."

Dak ignored him. "No, it's fine. I just want to brush the vomit out of my mouth first, is all," she half-lied. Hopefully her appetite would make an astounding comeback after she felt orally hygienic. "Besides, it's way better than hospital food. Thanks for the millionth time."

"It's no problem," Alphonse repeated, happily. He unpacked the toothbrush and toothpaste for her himself. Alphonse was just the perfect gentleman. The ladies were going to swoon when he had his body back.

She gratefully accepted her toiletries and strolled to the bathroom. She closed the door behind her and practically attached herself to the sink. She rotated the knob and soon was overzealously brushing as promised, possibly effacing her enamel.

When she was finished, she shifted her attention to her hair. The black tresses were woven into several, stubborn knots. It was a challenge, but she managed to rake out the clumps with her hairbrush. It was fairly smooth and tamed when the process concluded.

She left the bathroom considerably brighter. Her step had a spring to it as she made a beeline for the plastic shopping bag and put her implements away.

"All better?" Alphonse asked in amusement.

"Yep," she chirped. Not all better, but significantly, yes. She made her way to the bed and laid back down on it. "You're the best, Al."

She didn't know how, but she could detect a blush on Alphonse's visage. "Thanks. I hope Brother didn't scare you too much while I was gone."

"She screamed once or twice." Edward burped, his horror move drawing to an end. "'Scuse me."

"I couldn't help it. His face is scary."

This was even dead serious.

"Are you really doing the 'your face' jokes?" Edward smirked and packed away his trash in its original bag to throw away later.

"Your face is a joke."

"You're just a stand-up comedian."

"Thanks. I hope to one day be as great of a stand-up as your face."

"Will you stop? You're getting annoying."

"Your face is annoying."

"Shut up!"

"Never mind, Dak, I get the feeling you held your own," Alphonse intercepted awkwardly.

"Where'd ya get that idea?" asked Dak cheekily while Edward grumbled something unintelligible.

"Just a feeling," he laughed.

"Anyway," Edward interjected, tone growing serious. "We still have a lot of ground to cover." He turned a predatory grin on her.

Dak bowed her head in resignation. If this was simple questioning, she couldn't fathom what a professional police interrogation would be like.

All of the sudden, her prayers must have been answered as the door opened to reveal a doctor this time. "Hello, Miss Mackie. I just needed to check up on you. I apologize for the busy schedule." He smiled politely and approached the bed.

"How is... your wound?" His gaze shifted momentarily to the location of said "wound".

"It's fine," Dak said uncomfortably, hoping she wasn't pallid as her thoughts returned to why it was fine, again.

He smiled again. "Would you like privacy?" He nodded indicatively over to the audience, one of them tapping his foot impatiently. Guess who that was.

"Nah," she declined. He proceeded to check her vitals and update her on her condition and treatment. He explained that she should be discharged tomorrow, obviously trying his best to minimize the tension that mentioning her miraculously stable condition evoked. He also told her that her shoulder _should_ heal in a matter of six to eight weeks, and instructed her on how to prevent infection and ingest plenty of vitamin C. It was recommended that she drink orange juice. It would greatly curtail her recovery.

Dak nodded and "_mm-hmm_"'ed in agreement constantly throughout this. Eventually, the check-up was drawing to a close when Alphonse brought up her eating, or lack thereof. The doctor wasn't too surprised, remarking he wouldn't be working up much of an appetite either, if he was Dak. Nonetheless, he agreed they needed to get her nutrients. He offered an IV, adding that they were hesitant because of what happened last time. Dak had to solemnly swear that she wouldn't independently take it out again. He left, informing them that a nurse would arrive with an IV shortly.

Dak was becoming increasingly tired. "I wanna nap." Plus, her shoulder was still hurting. Like a bitch. Hopefully they would provide painkillers as well.

She looked guiltily over at the untouched noodles. "Sorry to waste your money."

"Oh, don't worry about that." Before he could go on, Edward snatched the cold noodles and devoured them. He sat down, inhaling it.

Dak blinked. "Oh. Of course," she said.

"We're not done questioning you," Edward said between bites, "so no falling asleep."

"Ugh, how am I supposed to stay awake being questioned more?" Dak groaned.

"Brother, she needs her rest," Alphonse came to her rescue. Oh, if he could only be her little brother!

"She slept into the afternoon," Edward countered.

"Exactly. I need to sleep until the evening," said Dak, earning a miffed look from Edward.

Alphonse poorly stifled a giggle. "You just don't want to update the Colonel, brother."

"I'd like to update him one more time with all of the information, rather than in intervals because the lunatic over here sleeps so damn much," Edward groaned.

"Sorry, but I'm freaking tired," Dak responded.

Edward stuffed the polished container in the bag. "Nope," he said stoically.

Dak pouted, lower lip protruding and she folded her arms across her chest. "Please, tall, handsome Eddie who's so tall he doesn't have to secretly wear stilts like all the other cheaters in the world?" she crooned.

Edward, who had been on his way to dispose of the plastic bag, froze in his tracks. His head turned to her slowly, revealing a flaming face the Flame Alchemist would be jealous of.

"What did you say to me?" he asked in utter disbelief. Dak grinned impishly and opened her mouth to reiterate in slow motion, but his hand shot out in signal for her to stop. "No, no. Can you write that down? And underline the tall part a few times? Minus the handsome part? Wait, I mean not minus... What?!" he cried, arms flailing about.

"Are you trying to fly away? Because you're so small, I'm sure the air could carry you," Dak said. By now, Alphonse was very very poorly stifling giggles, no, chortles.

Edward went into the biggest rampage she'd seen from him yet. Note: The next lines may be disturbing to some children. Reader discretion is advised.

Actually, nobody needs to read that. Let's just settle with, it was the biggest rampage she had seen from him yet. Edward was launching a fusillade of expletives she never even heard of at her, punctuating the tirade with stamps of his foot. It would have been frightening to a normal person, but Dak almost rolled off of her bed as she howled with laughter.

Eventually, Alphonse hurried over to cover his mouth. Edward stopped at once, but never tore his penetrative glare from her. She tried to kill the giggly residue of her laughter. This was solved for her when she was made aware of the trauma she had just submitted her shoulder to, and winced. Ow... She deserved that.

Pulling herself back into a semi-sitting position, she breathed.

"You. I hate you," Edward said, when he gained trust from Alphonse to remove his hand.

"That sucks. I think you're pretty cool," Dak hummed. Alphonse sighed with exhaustion.

All of a sudden, dulcet tones floated into the room. "... Can I come in now?" the owner fearfully asked. Looking over, Dak saw a nurse brandishing an IV pole along with a prepared bag standing in the doorway.

She hid a snicker with her hand. "Yeah."

"Not with that needle in my pre—" Edward started, but was cut short by Alphonse's hand over his mouth again.

"Yes, you can come in," Alphonse coaxed. "And Brother, biting my hand isn't going to work." He glanced down at a defeated Ed.

The nurse entered and hooked Dak up to the IV, who sat patiently and cooperatively as an unspoken apology for what she walked in on. When she was done, she left rather eagerly.

"Okay," Alphonse said when she was out the door. "No more comments on Ed's height while we're in the hospital. Please?"

"Thank you," Edward grumbled.

"Okay, okay," Dak relented.

"Brother, go call Colonel Mustang already. I'll watch her," Alphonse ordered. Edward exhaled gently but was more willing to leave this time.

* * *

To his surprise, he met up with said bastard on his way to the lobby to use their telephone. They started back to the room together.

"Oh, so you were actually planning to call me?" Mustang mused.

"Maybe. Anyway, yes I have wheedled some information out of her." Now he could stop his griping.

"And?"

"She's like Al and I," he said quietly. "She performed human transmutation and survived."

"I hope this isn't becoming a trend," Mustang said gravely. "Keep going, Fullmetal," he urged when a moment passed.

Edward crossed his arms studiously. "Her story, which I'm not totally sold on yet, is that she was able to close her wound and staunch the bleeding with alkahestry, mitigating it enough so that she wouldn't die. Have you ever heard of this 'alkahestry?'"

"Xing's take on alchemy, centers more around medical benefit. They use a different form of energy that I don't know of. I've read minor details in passing," he replied.

"So it is real," Edward said. A thought struck him and he smirked lopsidedly up at his commanding officer. "When you achieve your goal, you ought to increase trade and communication with the surrounding countries."

Mustang stopped in his tracks to look at him sharply. "How did you find out about that?"

"Havoc." They shared a look, the undercurrent easily construed to them. It was understood in an instant that Edward had just stipulated his support. Mustang smirk-smiled before picking the pace back up. Edward followed suit.

Breaking the comradely silence after a while, the younger pressed on. "She claims she lost precise memories. As in, any of the bits pertaining to a way home. She remembers her childhood, how she grew up, the people she knew. What's missing is the name of the place, how she can contact them, a huge time gap between the transmutation and her winding up in Central, et cetera. You see my point. Her theory? She has technically lost her home."

Colonel Mustang frowned contemplatively. "Could something so intangible be taken away?"

"I don't know, Bastard. Let me call up a few pals who have also committed the taboo and ask them about it," Edward said sardonically.

Mustang smirked, knowing it irked the boy. "You know when I asked if you were actually going to call me? I was wondering if you would be able to find a stool or some other help to reach the telephone."

"SHUT UP. Why are you here anyway?!" he raged. "Shouldn't you be doing paperwork?"

"I am a Colonel and I will do what I want," Mustang reasoned, and the blond produced growling noises that didn't quite make it into coherent words. They stopped at last, a few feet from the door to Dak's room.

"Why are you here?" he repeated.

"Saving you the trouble of finding a stool."

"Just WHO are you calling so short—"

Mustang cut him off. "I was just leaving from lunch anyway. I'd like to know who those people were that were chasing her, if they were even people. I've heard strange reports and on top of that, you've been acting suspicious about it." The younger alchemist stiffened, and the elder stepped up, shadow falling over him. "You will not hide information from your commanding officer, especially with the recent events."

"I'm giving you information, so stop your snivelling," Edward growled.

Mustang scowled but took back the step, obviously because this wasn't the time and place. "Focus. Is that something that could happen in a human transmutation or not?"

The blonde re-crossed his arms, face set in concentration. "I'm not sure, but actually, it's not that far-fetched." Mustang didn't understand at all how the taboo worked or how that kind of thing was simply taken, but he didn't probe. "She certainly doesn't have anyone looking for her."

"We'll try searching through the database for the last name. Mackie, correct?"

Edward nodded. "That makes it sketchy. You'd think the surname would count as a hint to home. Unless, for some reason, it won't do any good. But I guess we'll find that out."

"Alright. Any other discoveries?"

"She's cunning. I thought she was a total ditz at first, but underneath all the humor and blitheness is definitely a brain," he divulged sourly. "And that's the other thing. Her acting skills are almost perfect, too. If it weren't for a slip-up the first time and my epiphany that she was great with strategy, I might not even know it. Her fabrications are excellent, too. All in all, plenty of reasons not to trust her. On a side note, she's an annoying lunatic."

"On a side note, you think all women are annoying lunatics."

"On another fucking side note, that explains a lot about your personality since you hang around them so much. Besides, most of the girls I know are pretty crazy." He shuddered, thinking of Teacher, Winry, and Maria Ross. "This one is one of them."

"Maybe you're just so irksome, they all lose it around you."

"Hey Bastard, what was that about focusing?"

"Touche. So basically, she has nowhere to go. Or health insurance," Mustang thought aloud.

"Which is why I did her a favor and put it on your bill," Edward bragged, beaming.

Mustang—smirked. Shocker. "It's coming out of your funds, then. Oh, and I guess you'll be watching after her."

Edward tried not to throw a fit at both of his sentences, being so close to the subject of their conversation and all. "She'll. Drive. Me. Nuts."

"I would think you'd want to get as much information from her as possible. You did say she could be somehow involved in the Stone. From what you've described, one more day in a hospital isn't enough time to research." He quirked a challenging eyebrow. Edward's mouth clamped shut, knowing the bitter truth to that. "You'll be under the guise of her bodyguard from the now most wanted fugitives in Central. You'll take her along in your travels, as well. We'll see what we can do about her origins, in the mean time."

"She'd get in the way!" he protested.

"Quit being irrational, Fullmetal. Orders are orders," his superior officer barked. "If you malinger calling me to update on anything important, I will double your menial assignments."

"Fine!" Edward yelled. The last thing he needed was more paper assignments that prohibited him from traveling and investigating leads. "I still think we should admit her to a psych ward or something instead," he muttered.

He flicked his gaze skyward with exasperation. "Did she call you short a million times or something?" he assumed.

The vein at Edward's temple bulged and Mustang swore steam was billowing from his ears.

* * *

The first thing Edward noticed when he returned was Dak holding a piece of jewelry. The door clicked shut behind him, and when she heard it she looked up in alarm. She stuffed the necklace under her twice now repaired jacket before he got a good look, which had been set on the nightstand like before.

He narrowed his eyes. "What was that?" he asked, strolling over to her clothes. He reached over to lift up her jacket and see for himself, but she smacked his hand away instantaneously.

He scowled, and she stared sternly back at him while explaining, "My dead mother's necklace. I was just making sure it was there."

"It's not important to us, Brother," Alphonse added gently.

Edward wore an indecipherable expression as he took his hands away to jam them in his pockets. "There's no need to be so secretive about a necklace."

"I guess I'm being weird, but it's important to me," she said.

Edward scrutinized her for a second, determining from sharpened intuition that she wasn't lying about her mother passing away. An apology tickled at the back of his throat, but before he could attempt, Alphonse spoke up.

"Who were you just yelling at?" he sighed.

"Bastard graced me with his presence instead," Edward answered, and remembered the bad news. "Apparently, I'm your bodyguard protecting you from the dangerous people that are for some reason, targeting you."

* * *

"Gluttony will easily be able to continue tracking her while we wait for an opportune moment to get it back," Lust rushed to placate You-Know-Who. "She won't get away this time."

"_Get away, or be thrown away? Didn't you notice that you had two empty hands when you apparently lifted this girl and 'killed' her_?" Dante chided calmly over the phone, tempting Lust to cringe. "_This time, as you say, please refrain from killing her. I'd like to know how she poofed into existence with a Philosopher's Stone. That sounds like it could be important_."

"Understood. It was just that, she seemed to be more trouble than she was worth, as I told her," Lust lamely excused, examining her claws she had elongated an inch or two.

"_I'd appreciate it if you left that judgement to me. In the mean time, do find out her last name for me as well_."

"Will do, but..."

"_Because I have this nagging at the back of my head that I know this girl. Now, do your job right this time. I don't understand why teenagers are always such a problem for you_," Dante said before she could ask, and the line went dead a second later.

Lust replaced the phone on its cradle, a frown marring her gorgeous features. She exited the phone booth to where Gluttony was waiting, garbed in his cloak. He looked up at her curiously.

Lust muttered, "Let's go, Gluttony."


End file.
